ISSUE #49
BEAM FROM THE BOOTH | GRAND RAPIDS FILM SOCIETY
[EDITED BY: GRIFFIN SHERIDAN]
Hello and welcome back to an all-new installment of BEAM FROM THE BOOTH brought to you by GRAND RAPIDS FILM SOCIETY!
It’s an full week for GRFS, with 3 exciting events for you to attend!
First, on WEDNESDAY (3/20), OPEN PROJECTOR NIGHT returns for another evening of short films with a Michigan connection. Plus, stay after the program for a Q&A with some of the filmmakers in attendance and vote for your favorite short of the night. Come out and support independent filmmakers with us later this week.
Then, on THURSDAY (3/21), we’re hosting another FILM SOCIETY ROUNDTABLE. Join us for our free social event and meet other likeminded GR film fans.
And finally, on SUNDAY (3/24), we’re screening the film that Sight and Sound readers crowned “The Greatest Film of All Time” in their most recent ten-yearly poll: JEANNE DIELMAN, 23, QUAI DU COMMERCE, 1080 BRUXELLES. And if that isn’t enough to convince you to join us for this screening, our own David Blakeslee has written about the film and it’s director, Chantal Akerman, in a piece you can find further down in this very newsletter.
And before we move on, we wanted to take a moment to pull the curtain back on an upcoming event that we’re thrilled about: our APRIL FOOLS’ DAY SCREENING of Martin Scorsese’s THE KING OF COMEDY. Come on out Monday, April 1st for this dark comedy from one of the masters of cinema. Tickets available now.
And now, check out our special preview for this week’s OPN, featuring interviews with each filmmaker featured in the program!…
OPEN PROJECTOR NIGHT: MARCH 2024 PREVIEW
[BY: SPENCER EVERHART]
OPEN PROJECTOR NIGHT is a series we continue to be absolutely thrilled to present, and we’re back at it again! We highly encourage you all to join us on the evening of Wednesday, March 20th, to support and celebrate local independent filmmaking.
Our very own Spencer Everhart (who also helps in selecting works for the event) interviewed each filmmaker about their short film as a preview for you all of this edition’s lineup. Check it out...
The Boy and The Galaxy (Isaac Schultz)
A young space enthusiast creates art to escape the reality of life with an abusive father.
Spencer Everhart: How did you originally get into cinema and what has your journey been as a filmmaker up until now?
Isaac Schultz: My introduction to filmmaking came from my brother when I was about 13 years old. He got an action camera for Christmas that he would take with him, capturing random moments of life that he would later edit together with music. I thought that was cool, so I asked him to teach me how to do it. He showed me the basics of the editing software, iMovie, and how to line clips up to the beat of a song. From there, I went down the rabbit hole of video creation: making fun edits with no trajectory and youtube videos that documented my life. I did this for about 5 years with no expectations for myself, slowly building a portfolio of progress while simultaneously getting my name out there. It was in my senior year of high school that I realized I could make money creating videos — my school asked me to make a video for their football program, and a family friend asked me to film their daughter's wedding. By the time I graduated, I decided I was going to pursue a career involving filmmaking, although admittedly I had no idea what that would entail. In 2021, I launched my company, Insomnia Films, at age 18. For the first year, I filmed weddings, local small scale ads, and of course, tons of passion projects. These videos are what I used to score an internship at the Grand Rapids based production company Gorilla. It's here that I went from a videographer to a filmmaker. In 2022, I learned how to operate cinema cameras, how to work on sets, how to tell compelling stories, and how to operate as an industry professional. This was the year that I wrote and directed my first short film: In Decision. The film served as an incredible opportunity to learn, but it definitely appeared to be a beginner's work. So I took everything that I learned and applied it to my second short film, The Boy and The Galaxy, filmed in 2023 in Grand Rapids. This time around, the team size was multiplied by five, giving me more pressure but also more help and ability. Just five days after filming was completed, I moved to Atlanta, Georgia to pursue my career on a bigger stage. But once I got down here, I quickly realized how difficult it was going to be to make a name for myself in a huge film city, especially with the lasting effects of the strikes slowing everything down. Thankfully, though, Atlanta has a huge music scene. I've been able to sustain myself by directing music videos while I continue to get onto film sets and build my new network.
What was the primary inspiration behind your film? How did the project come about?
The inspiration for The Boy and The Galaxy came from three different sources: my mother, my best friend, and director Taika Watiti. Initially, my mother had the idea to tell a story about a boy who has never seen the stars due to his environment. My best friend grew up in a household with an abusive father, and he often expresses to me the lasting impact that has had on him. So I took both the idea from my mother and the story of my friend and tied them together. In order to make this personal, I had to bring in my own experiences with escape. As a child, drawing was my escape. And during the process of writing the script, I remembered the film Boy by Taika Watiti, which uses animation to illustrate the thoughts of a child. All of these things came together to build the film.
What was the biggest challenge you faced while making this movie, and how did you overcome it?
The biggest challenge I had in creating The Boy and The Galaxy was building the team. As a new filmmaker, it was difficult to get professionals interested in my project. It's understandable that seasoned professionals wouldn't trust a 20-year-old with one film to his name to hire them. So, I spent three months meeting with people until I finally got my team built. My main strategy became giving opportunities to filmmakers that were at a similar stage in their careers. For example, if someone was typically a camera assistant but had goals of being a director of photography, I gave them the opportunity to do that. This made everyone much more likely to bite at my low budget rates. In addition, the people that I hired had bigger networks than me, so we were able to call on their friends. This, in combination with a solid script, is how we built the team.
What about this project are you most proud of?
The thing I am most proud of in The Boy and The Galaxy is the visible growth I've had since my last film. I'm pleased with myself for not giving up when there was no success for my first film, but rather taking the mistakes as lessons and applying them to something new. Also, just the fact that it was completed makes me happy; it takes a lot to make a film, and oftentimes we never finish the things we set out to do.
“Love Underground” (Alex Perez)
Stop-motion animated music video for the Grand Rapids, Michigan band The B-Sides
Spencer Everhart: How did you originally get into cinema and what has your journey been as a filmmaker up until now?
Alex Perez: My ventures into filmmaking began about seven years ago when I made a short stop-motion animation to promote an album I was releasing. Since then my work has been mostly music videos and animated sequences to be featured in short films, all of which fall under the umbrella of stop-motion. The first video used a lot of clay and some paper cut-outs and have since become more of a hodgepodge of clay, paper, wire, and hand-drawn animations.
What was the primary inspiration behind your film? How did the project come about?
The film “Love Underground” is a music video largely inspired by dark/haunted imagery of the song’s lyrics and instrumentation. I was commissioned to create the video by the songwriter Tommy Schichtel of the band The B-Sides.
What was the biggest challenge you faced while making this movie, and how did you overcome it?
The biggest challenge I faced making this video was the mental stamina required to make a stop-motion. To counter this, I’ve found out about following one’s instincts and gravitating toward experimentation and what triggers excitement. Often this leads to letting the ideas flow, removing the blockage of doubt or becoming overwhelmed at the amount of effort to complete the project.
What about this project are you most proud of?
At about two-thirds of the way through the video there is a sequence where the mediums change from paper cut-outs to hand-drawn to clay, all in about five seconds, creating one fluid motion. This was my first time trying something like this, and the result was very surprising and gratifying!
Fisheye (Gwendolyn Stringer)
In the distant future, sea life has gone near extinct and fishing is a practice of the past until one girl sets out to find the big catch that will bring back a connection to her past.
Spencer Everhart: How did you originally get into cinema and what has your journey been as a filmmaker up until now?
Gwendolyn Stringer: I got into cinema through watching the behind-the-scenes documentaries on DVDs as a child, and I was so fascinated with all the work and creativity that went into making a single movie. I went to community college and then GVSU to pursue film, and I have made so many friends and worked on so many films with my time in university — those films mean a lot to me. I'm working now on creating a good portfolio and practicing my skills to apply to jobs related to, or within, the film industry (specifically video editing or visual effects).
What was the primary inspiration behind your film? How did the project come about?
The film was largely inspired by fishing with my grandpa (he is the grandpa in the film) and my love for science fiction/cyberpunk media! I wanted to make a film that required some visual effects work as that is my passion specifically in film, and this film gave me a great excuse to do some fun visual effects shots! I made the film for my senior thesis project while at GVSU.
What was the biggest challenge you faced while making this movie, and how did you overcome it?
Thanks to my amazing team of filmmakers, we were pretty prepared for most things but the dune scenes inspired by Bladerunner 2049 were probably the most difficult. It was a windy day and we shot them with a drone to get the different angles and elevations I was looking for without hauling large equipment into the dunes! We did not have a lot of time to get the shots, and the wind kept pushing the drone. Luckily Austin Tippett is a great drone pilot, and we just kept shooting until the wind was calm for the whole duration of the shot in conjunction with the camera getting the right movement/angle!
What about this project are you most proud of?
I'm most proud of directing this film as I had edited films and written scripts before but never directed. Conveying the story and dialogue to the actors, managing a team of about fifteen crew members, and making sure we were getting what I was looking for were all skills I had really used done before, and I really couldn't have done it without all the crew and cast’s support, skill, and professionalism on set!
i want to be clean (Brandon Fecteau)
This film explores a metamorphosis of self through a grotesque display of a tearing of past selves. Paired with an ambient soundtrack, this film becomes a meditation on the idea of shedding past identities in order to become a new person, rediscovering who we are.
Spencer Everhart: How did you originally get into cinema and what has your journey been as a filmmaker up until now?
Brandon Fecteau: After high school, I really got into photography and spent a number of years focusing on that as my primary medium. I’ve always been an avid lover of cinema, I feel like one of the movies that really struck me as what cinema can really be is The Holy Mountain by Alejandro Jodorowsky. That was one of the first films really in the experimental vein that I had found and what drew me into filmmaking as a pursuit. I started off shooting a few music videos for some friends, bridging my love for music and film together and started going to school where I was able to develop more of an experimental style like seen in i want to be clean or Velleity, which will be featured in the 62nd Ann Arbor Film Festival.
What was the primary inspiration behind your film? How did the project come about?
My primary inspiration for this piece was The Big Shave by Martin Scorsese. I had just watched it for the first time the day I shot this film, and a big snowstorm had just begun. I thought about the parallels between a fresh blanket of snow and the fresh porcelain sink that was used in The Big Shave before it was covered in blood, the man peeling away at pieces of himself as he kept on shaving away pieces of himself. Stopping at a grocery store on my way home, I spotted a pomegranate which is known in Greek mythology to represent death and rebirth. I thought about how this pomegranate had the same feeling as the man shaving pieces of himself off as the pomegranate is peeling away at bits of self before the rebirth.
You composed the ambient score yourself; what was your process for generating that music? Was it influenced by the visuals in the film or written beforehand?
For my own personal films, I always create the score after getting a cut together. With most of my films, I enjoy creating a juxtaposition between the imagery and score — with this one I really worked with the smeared, almost gory-looking visuals and paired it with a brighter tone. With the theme of rebirth and death, the imagery represents the parts of ourselves we shed away, and the score represents the brighter side of this shedding, the person we come out as after the process. I sat around for hours testing different sounds on Ableton with a midi keyboard and working around some of the preset sounds to create a tone that I feel really benefits this film.
The movement of your images creates a kind of smeared abstraction — how did you create those textures and how do they speak to the general theme of renewal and/or rebirth?
I’ve found through experimentation with different shooting formats that MiniDV creates beautiful textures from the look of the footage. For this one, I used multiple opacity layers at different speeds to create the smears of abstracted imagery that are shown on screen. These textures symbolize this feeling of rebirth in the blurs of selves we had been before the new person we come out as afterwards.
What was the biggest challenge you faced while making this movie, and how did you overcome it?
One of the biggest challenges to me was trying to shoot this during a raging snowstorm. I didn’t want my camera to get wet so I ended up taping up a garbage bag around the camcorder. It ended up coming loose in the middle of the shoot and kept getting in frame while peeling the pomegranate. I ended up losing some good footage from that, since I was shooting it myself, but I’m still happy with how it turned out in the end! I had a previous cut that I was planning to use that felt too repetitive and slower, so I feel like having a smaller amount of footage to go through made me really think about the shot before putting it back in the timeline.
What about this project are you most proud of?
For this film, I’m proud of the way the vision was brought into reality. The way the torn pomegranate bled into the snow and created this gory aftermath was much better than I had anticipated. I had played around with multiple different versions, originally attempting to film, edit, and score all in one day. The second part of the score came out of this process, and I was able to work out the first half of the score after some reworking of the edit. I’m also happy to be able to keep the analog era alive with this film, shooting on MiniDV brings a form of nostalgia to my films, seeing the same quality as my childhood videos growing up.
“Disenchantment” (Zac Clark)
A music video for the song “Disenchantment” by Pink Sky.
Spencer Everhart: How did you originally get into cinema and what has your journey been as a filmmaker up until now?
Zac Clark: My start in cinema began in Kalamazoo, Michigan recording bands traveling through the Midwest in session-style videos with lo-fi cameras. In ten years since those first sessions, I've slowly acted upon the desire to tell true stories in both fiction and nonfiction. Gratefully, this journey has most recently taken me to SXSW, where I was able to attend the world premiere of three films I had the opportunity to work on as a gaffer or grip: Things Will Be Different, Jedo's Dead, and I Love You Forever.
What was the primary inspiration behind your film? How did the project come about?
The original inspiration for “Disenchantment” came during 2020. I lived at the corner of Cherry & Division in an apartment on the ground floor with windows that went from the floor to the ceiling, twelve feet across. I would sit on the small ledge indoors and watch a few scared people walk by during the day. The isolation made me feel far from my family and, at times, in need of starting over.
During the spring of 2023, Pink Sky put out an open call for music video collaborators. Being a huge fan, I reached out immediately, revisited the idea, and pitched it for their track.
What was the biggest challenge you faced while making this movie, and how did you overcome it?
From the beginning, I knew this would be a project that couldn't be shot on location. To accommodate the practical effects of fire, smoke, rain, and slow motion, we would have to build a set. Our talented production designer, Isabella Werschky, already had the flats at her disposal, and together we gathered the materials for the room itself while she treated the walls for their special concrete look. To avoid complications with water and smoke, while also giving maximum light for the slow-motion sequences, we planned on shooting the entirety of the music video outdoors. Ironically, it rained during our shooting weekend. While we planned to wet down the interior of the set, rain would have warped the flats of the set, damaging them irreparably, which forced us to move the shoot indoors. The whole team worked professionally and passionately to accomplish this feat as if it were the plan all along.
What about this project are you most proud of?
I am proud of the production design and practical effects for “Disenchantment,” but I was astonished by what Wesley Swickley brought to the film with his performance. I had worked once before with Wesley on a short film called Sisters, which had its premiere at Wealthy Theatre, and was immediately drawn to his willingness to explore characterization. For all our magic thrown at the screen, all of it would have fallen short if Wesley hadn't brought real grief and memory to the music video.
Birdman (Josiah Tipton)
A vignette about Gairen Tembreull and his bird sanctuary.
Spencer Everhart: How did you originally get into cinema and what has your journey been as a filmmaker up until now?
Josiah Tipton: I remember being 10 years old, my sister and I would come up with storylines for our Lego sets and act them out. We eventually started filming them with my dad’s VHS recorder, and that’s when I realized I wanted to make movies. I studied cinematography at Tribeca Flashpoint in Chicago and, after graduating, I co-produced and edited a short docuseries with a friend on local artists in our hometown. Most recently, I wrote and directed a web-series called Fangs of Love with my comedy group Looners which received “Finalist” at the Portland Comedy Film Festival.
What was the primary inspiration behind your film? How did the project come about?
The banjo player in my band was acquainted with the subject of my documentary, Gairen, and thought it would be good to do a fundraiser for his sanctuary. When Gairen and I started talking, I learned about his mission to raise the minimum standard of care for companion birds due to the fact that birds are one of the fastest growing groups of displaced animals in the U.S. I figured it would be such a compelling vignette, and Gairen was very open to the idea of me spending a couple days at the sanctuary filming him in his environment.
What was the biggest challenge you faced while making this movie, and how did you overcome it?
This whole project unfolded very organically without many challenges. One thing that I had to adjust for was how to break up scenes in order to avoid being too monotonous since we only had one location to film at. The initial plan was to do a supply run to Aldi with Gairen and his brother to show a little more of his routine, but this fell through. We were able to get a quick run-and-gun interview with a volunteer who was helping with the nightly cleanup, and she shared a little bit about her life and what the sanctuary means to her. This really helped with the pacing and to show how the sanctuary is teaching people who have no prior bird experience how to take care of one as a companion and not as a pet.
What about this project are you most proud of?
There’s a moment in the film where Gairen is talking about how he overcame a traumatic incident in his life and how the birds that he was taking care of at the time gave him purpose. At this moment we see him giving his Scarlet Macaw a shower and on Gairen’s back is a tattoo of wings coming out of the center of a motorcycle wheel. It’s a very tender and vulnerable moment in the film, and the imagery does so much to represent who he is and what his mission is. I’m so proud of this moment, and it’s the type of moment that I look for when doing human interest pieces like this.
The Doll (Dante James)
Set in the early 1900s and based on the short story by Charles W. Chesnutt, “The Doll” tells the story of Tom Taylor, the Black proprietor of the Wyandot Hotel barbershop. Taylor’s humanity, dignity, and responsibility to family and community are challenged when he has an opportunity to avenge an injustice inflicted on his father decades earlier.
Spencer Everhart: How did you originally get into cinema and what has your journey been as a filmmaker up until now?
Dante James: Storytelling is deeply rooted in African culture, from the Griot to writers, spoken word artists, and filmmakers. I come from a family of skilled storytellers, and I believe that's where my love for storytelling started. My first job in the industry was as a studio technician at KSTP TV in St. Paul, Minnesota. However, I soon realized that my real interest was creating and interpreting content instead of its technical aspects. Consequently, I moved back to Grand Rapids, re-enrolled at Grand Valley, worked at WGVC TV as a student, and, after graduating, joined the staff. Later, I moved to Washington, D.C. and worked for PBS stations, where I received my first two Emmy Awards. Subsequently, I became a freelance filmmaker and worked on two noteworthy PBS series, The Great Depression and America's War on Poverty, under the guidance of my friend and mentor, Henry Hampton at Blackside Films in Boston. I executive produced the PBS series Far by Faith and won another Emmy for my work as the series producer of Slavery and the Making of America. These projects and every film I make focus on telling stories from the ground up, the Henry Hampton way, as history constantly reveals that real change begins with the people.
What was the primary inspiration behind your film? How did the project come about?
I am inspired by the storytellers in my family, my love and respect for our history and culture, and the need for self-definition in the context of heightened racial tensions throughout America. Black writers have been able to move beyond the external definitions often imposed on Black people and have defined our world in creative, engaging, and entertaining ways. Black literature is a great way to explore Black people's complexity, humanity, dignity, and resilience. As an artist in residence at Duke, I was intrigued by the work of Charles Chesnutt. I read his short stories and selected “The Doll”to adapt into a film. Fortunately, we were able to secure the resources to do so.
Richard Wright, another great writer, said the artist is a revolutionary figure. The serious artist grapples with his environment, passes judgment on it. He helps to deepen peoples' perceptions, quicken their thought processes. He makes them conscious of the possibility of historical change — and in that way he facilitates change.
This is what Charles Chesnutt did and what I want to do with my films.
What was the biggest challenge you faced while making this movie, and how did you overcome it?
The biggest challenge in any project is securing resources to produce it void of editorial or artistic constraints. The biggest creative challenge was adapting Mr. Chesnutt's work for a new medium over a hundred years after it was published while respecting and maintaining the integrity of the original work. To accomplish this, we added a couple of scenes, changed how the story ends, and enhanced the story with nonverbal, visual storytelling that more clearly defines the context of the times and provides the main character space to assert his manhood, humanity, and dignity. I won't say more because I want as many people as the Wealthy Theatre can hold to come see the film. I hope these are things we can discuss after the screening.
What about this project are you most proud of?
As with all productions, I'm proud of the production team and our commitment to the project. Production is demanding and stressful, but it is really fun work. The producers, directors, and actors always get most of the attention. But anyone who knows anything about filmmaking knows that, first of all, it has to be on the page, and Chesnutt made sure of that. However, the convergence of creativity, technical expertise, organization, and mutual respect among the production team is very satisfying. And finally, I think Mr. Chesnutt would be happy with the adaptation of his work.
“All About You” (Antonio Mitchell)
“All About You,” Basic Comfort’s second single for their album, Dimensions, could be considered somewhat of a ‘Love Song,’ though it is more of a meditation on the growth of love — starting with just a conversation and ending with complete captivation. It is full of metaphors likening love to the intertwining of vines and roots growing taller and deeper, all supported by a beat and groovy syncopated rhythms.
Spencer Everhart: How did you originally get into cinema and what has your journey been as a filmmaker up until now?
Antonio Mitchell: I am a product of my Dad’s passion for cinema, which rubbed off on me at a young age. I can remember countless nights staying up with him late into the early morning watching all of his favorite movies and then going to the cinema with him almost every weekend back in middle school and high school. Movies have always been a pivotal point in our relationship. As young as I can remember, I’ve been glued to the silver screen. As I got older, that spark slowly turned into the fire we have today.
When I was in high school, I basically lived at Blockbuster and was there multiple times a week, diving into many classics and the best and worst of the mid-2000s. By the time I was a senior in high school, I was a pseudo-employee to the crew there, but when I was ready to join the team the location was closed. Soon after high school, I started working at Alamo Drafthouse in Kalamazoo. I really think that's when a passion and love for film started to manifest in my life — working around movies and friends who were just as big of nerds about cinema as me was transformative. That's where I met my best friend, Angel Andrews (co-director on “All About You”), and a handful of other creatives I still get to work with now on music and films!
Following my time at the Alamo, I attended Western Michigan University to study Multimedia Arts and Technology (MAT) and Film Communication. At that point, I was all in — creating music and films! Not as good as what I make now, but I was doing it, which was just as important.
When I began working on films in college, I mostly did music composition and sound design for friends like Darius Gardner (a Kzoo Filmmaker) and a music video for my band True FO. During my senior year, I started Basic Comfort (BC) as my capstone project in the MAT program in which I wrote and produced an album. After I graduated, BC started getting more serious, and we did our first music video called “Drift” with our friend J. Ludeker (Kzoo DP & Director) in April of 2020. That same year I started Texture House Sound & Visuals (TXH) with Paul Schaedig (BC guitarist, singer, and business partner for Texture House) to make the film and music work we had been doing already more official! In 2021, we filmed another music video with J. Ludeker for BC’s song “Fed Up.” In 2022, BC received a grant from the Kalamazoo Arts Council to help fund the marketing of a music video for our album DIMENSIONS (released December 1st, 2023).
At this point, I had never taken ownership of the director's seat. I never felt confident enough in myself and my skills to do the job justice. In hindsight, I was directing in many of those past projects; I just didn't want the label. But, at the same time, it was a collaboration. I didn’t feel I needed the label because the team was small, and we were all creating and growing together!
Then Zac Clark (DP and Producer for “All About You”) came into the frame. This man really believed in me when it came to making “All About You”! At this point, I worked with Zac on production sound and post-sound work on a handful of things he was either directing or producing. We built a great relationship together, and with the Arts Council grant BC received, Zac and I were ready to take things to the next level with the music video for “All About You.”
It all started with a simple meeting at a coffee shop in Kalamazoo. I came to Zac to talk about making BC a music video, and by the end of our meeting we had a very rough outline of an idea with some general vibes. Somehow, I had also stepped up to direct the dang thing in the meeting!
Many weeks and meetings followed as Zac and I built the concept. We were two months out from filming when I realized how dang big this music video was about to be, and I needed more help. At the same time, TXH was growing, and we were bringing Angel Andrews on as a partner to head video production. With her background as a producer and director graduating from Columbia with an MFA in film production, she was the key to unlocking the full potential of the team and the concept Zac and I had built at that point.
What was the primary inspiration behind your film? How did the project come about?
Our biggest inspiration would have to be the song “All About You,” written by the talented Paul Schaedig and the Basic Comfort crew. The second inspiration was the opportunity created to do something bigger, having received the grant through the Kalamazoo Arts Council.
Through a handful of meetings with Angel, Paul, and Zac, we slowly pieced together the concept and visual. It was really a bunch of moments we thought would look cool, like the car rig with the 360-spinning camera and the couch pull. I’m sure there were many more ideas, but those seemed to be the ones that stuck and were the most achievable with all the factors involved in creating cinema (location, time, people, and MONEY). At the core of the video, we always knew this was a love story, and we wanted a dance party similar to a handful of Daft Punk music videos.
What was the biggest challenge you faced while making this movie, and how did you overcome it?
For me, the biggest challenges we faced were time and capacity to get all the shots we needed in just two days. This is where most of my brain power came from leading up to the first production date. I spent a lot of time talking with Angel about our shot list and breaking it down hour-by-hour and what we needed to do to get things done efficiently. That time was well spent because things flowed smoothly once we were on set. We had thought through nearly every outcome and set ourselves up with enough time to improvise in the moment. For instance, there is a soul-train-style dance line at the end of the music video that we had joked about getting, along with a handful of other ideas. We planned an hour or so of time to mess around during production with extras and actors to play around and improvise. Personally, I think that was one of the best moments of production and one of my favorite parts of the music video.
Oh, the second hardest thing was Paul Schaedig getting COVID the week before filming. That was a blow because Paul is pretty much my right hand in everything I do. We bounced back, though, and reworked our production days to take him out of all the scenes he was in. We also added some scenes after the main production day at the beginning of the film to be able to give him some screen time and fill in some much-needed space in the intro.
What about this project are you most proud of?
The Crew and Kzoo Community really brought the heart and excitement to this project! It's amazing how everyone showed up ready to make something truly special happen. Throughout the two days of production, everyone was on their A-game. Michigan's talent shines brighter every year, and I'm grateful for the support I received.
From the lighting department to the actors and camera team, everyone played a crucial role in bringing my vision to life. It was inspiring to see how each person understood the vision and contributed to elevating every shot and moment in their own way.
A huge shoutout to the extras who rocked the best outfits; thanks to our production coordinator, Ina Foster-Goodrich, for putting together such a stellar style guide. The dance party was a blast, especially the soul train sequence. When we put on that Stevie Wonder song and Zac started flying on the pushcart, laughing and cheesing out his ears, I knew we had something special.
I'm incredibly grateful to everyone who made this project possible. Their trust and dedication made each day of production unforgettable. Thank you for being a part of this journey!
Paris-BreathlessWeekend (Neil Harvey & Jon Hammerbeck)
They meet in 1975 at KSDT, a student radio station in California. Within months they transform the tight Top 40 station to Free Form, very free form. They make radio art and experimental 16mm films asking what is art and what isn’t. Upon graduation they begin an audio correspondence on cassettes. Forty years later they reunite in Paris. But on arrival, they learn iconic hero filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard has died. In the spirit of Godard, they hit the streets with camera’s and microphones. Cubist, surrealist, Dada. Picasso said that as a child he learned how to paint as an adult but as an adult he succeeded at painting like a child. Voices of Jean-Luc Godard, Henry Miller, John Lennon, Terrence McKenna, Cynthia Bourgeault and a host of others. “You Don’t Make a Movie, The Movie Makes You.” - Jean-Luc Godard
Spencer Everhart: How did you originally get into cinema and what has your journey been as a filmmaker up until now?
Neil Harvey: I studied film as an undergrad in the avant-garde art department at UC San Diego beginning in 1975. Jean-Pierre Gorin was teaching there, fresh off his Dziga Vertov group film collaborations with Jean-Luc Godard. Other professors there were film critic and painter Manny Farber, experimental filmmakers Standish Lawder, Louis Hock, and James Benning. Filmmaker Babette Mangolte taught and hired me as an assistant cameraman for one season’s shooting of her 16mm film Sky On Location. John Cage gave master classes and Laurie Anderson performed. I made four 16mm shorts. I met Jon Hammerbeck at the student radio station where we did our own wild free form shows and then collaborated on a series of Dual Headfood all-nighter radio marathons. I supported myself by becoming the lead cameraman for UCSD’s Office of Learning Resources. I filmed a lot of cadaver work for the medical school and was camera for an interview with one of the first victims displaying symptoms of what had not yet been identified as AIDS. To my surprise, on graduation, no one gave me $100,000 to go make my first film. I married an heiress to the Slurpee Freezer Machine empire. That didn’t last long so after a cosmic experience hiking the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu, I headed for the Anza Borego Desert in my VW van to find God. After cycles of homelessness in LA, etc., eventually I found a way to make enough money as an itinerant sound engineer. During these years, Jon and I were exchanging audio explorations on cassette tapes.
Jon Hammerbeck: While I do not come from a direct film production background or training, film and film process did underlie my early years. In junior high, I wrote a film screenplay about secret agents( 1968- of course). In perhaps a presage of my later cinematic direction of structuralism, I took the character name (Mark Ross) from the name of the notebook in which I was writing the script, and the other product wording on the notebook made their way into the script as well. In college my interests focused more on sound — multi-layer presentations with no temporal direction of importance. As I met Neil Harvey at KSDT, we both took off in alternative radio shows centering on the pursuit of both breaking down sound and layering it upon itself to fashion complex noise of joy and fascination. At the same time, while not a film student, I took a film class taught by Stanton Kaye at UCSD. My final project was a script that satirized his own film he had shown in class. Much was learned from the class, as an understanding of Eisenstein and parallel montage, and its relationship to the radio segue, lead me to try to see the world as a flux of art opportunities; when I view the world as artist, I see more. I am more. I have been shooting video for 40 years, and all the odd angles and strange happenstance that occurs gleefully as seeming random chance have now strangely been the early found footage for this film. The Accidental Film Maker. Film as flanuer. Flanuer as film.
What was the primary inspiration behind your film? How did the project come about?
Neil Harvey: Jon Hammerbeck and I love recorded sound. For about five years, while we were college students, we indulged that primal fascination on a student radio station together and apart. After leaving school, we exchanged cassette tapes, what we called The Correspondence Piece. We each had an ample enough audience of one in mind. In the early 2000s, we got together several times in my far away Northern California mountain studio for some Dual Headfood sessions. It was like two found sound free jazz improvisors getting together to jam — and record. With cell phones, waves of images and sound began appearing in my hand from Jon. All a great giggle. Somewhere back there we did a live sound performance piece at the Mess Hall in Chicago. In 2018 we were invited to do a sound installation as part of an art exhibition in Brooklyn. Our epic Sound in Stalls One, Two, Three resulted, complete with a giant orange hanging scroll — the score/poem for the piece. Would be happy to talk more about that. But while hanging out in Paris one time, I declared an intention that before we leave these lives, Jon and I must meet in Paris to run wild in the streets together with video and audio recording gear. That happened in the fall of 2022. Amazingly, my first morning in Paris for that shoot going out for croissants and coffee, I encounter at a newsstand the headline that filmmaker/hero Jean-Luc Godard had just died. That news added an urgency to our filming.
Jon Hammerbeck: Neil and I have had a most wondrous co-inspiration creative interaction over close to fifty years. From multi-layered radio shows to correspondence audio cassette tapes, which allowed us to vent/create/feel a free forum to free associate all creation and then reassemble like a cubist salad. Later years would see occasional visits for more audio exploration. Short bursts of shared video would be exchanged with unrelenting thick audio beds would then evolve as the cyber years came. Neil and I then met in Paris in 2022, and as it turned out, in an apropos reunion of synchronicitous souls recognizing the passing of cinematic legend Godard. This final event then presented us the long-discussed and anticipated merging of our past, present, and future creative selves into a filmic dream wagon of homage. Re Truth Academy.
What was the biggest challenge you faced while making this movie, and how did you overcome it?
Neil Harvey: We did not know how to work a proper video editing platform. I was pretty good at editing 16mm film in the 1970s. I am a very late adopter of cell phone life, though, and other than email I do not participate in social media. In 2022, I presented a Pecha Kucha of our Paris story (20 slides for 20 seconds each) in Douglas, MI. The art club audience was enraptured. Suddenly there was brave talk of making a film. In the fall of 2023 we found Adriana Totaro, a film student at University of Michigan. She agreed to put together a rough cut of footage Jon had managed to mix. Seeing the rough cut blew our minds; so much fun imagining together how to work with the footage and sound! But in December 2023, I discovered WYCE. That led to the revelation that there was a GRCMC and GRTV; a place that offered classes in Final Cut Pro! I took a solo class with Alaina Taylor between Christmas and New Years. Since then our little film has been the great joy and obsession of my life.
Jon Hammerbeck: Frankly there were several challenges. My technical filmic training is limited and thus the technical challenges were immense for me; thankfully Neil performed so much of the film editing and construction, and it is a masterpiece of his great work. Adriana Tortaro, University of Michigan student, was also of great help to us in crafting the original longer version (to be played only late at night on FM underground stations). The other was believing that I could actually do this and be a meaningful part of it. Neil’s strong support of my uncertainty has been so important here.
What about this project are you most proud of?
Neil Harvey: I once managed to get my partner Christina to go see a Godard film with me. It was not her cup of tea. But her brief analysis of it will never leave me. She said: “That film looks like the work of an old man doing exactly what he wants.” Our Paris-BreathlessWeekend film is exactly the film I most wanted to make. I hope that Jon feels the same way. Our only compromises in putting this one together were 1) I cut out a lot of swear words, and 2) the sense that for it to possibly be shown anywhere it had to be as short as possible. Getting it down to 12 minutes was the most difficult part of the process. The enthusiasm that the film has received is pretty overwhelming for me. New film dreams are exploding. I’m savoring the same sleepless nights like the ones that tormented me with film visions when I was 20 years old. A Godard quote in our film that I love is “You don’t make the movie, the movie makes you.” This now makes complete sense to me and is what's happening. I’m excited to see how the next movie will make us.
Jon Hammerbeck: We did it!!! It did not seem something doable, but we each fed each other with reinforcement and new blending of water waves, and over many long late-night calls, what seemed like an unrealistic concept become actual form. And now there is so much ahead. We have only scratched the surface of the ultra object. Whenever in doubt, or at an impasse, just turn it upside down and run it backwards. Cubist tools. Picasso wants them back? Check out the movie at the Googleplex.
Organicycle (Dennis Nagelkirk)
Organicycle is a local curbside composting company. I was given 100% free reign to create something unique, memorable, and silly.
Spencer Everhart: How did you originally get into cinema and what has your journey been as a filmmaker up until now?
Dennis Nagelkirk: Like a lot of people, I got the itch when I was a kid. I can remember specific childhood movies that had me longing to see behind the curtain; the Star Wars trilogy, The Neverending Story, Back to the Future, Big Trouble in Little China, Terminator 1 & 2. I remember seeing different specials on TV about how things were made. It all seemed so technical and interesting. It never left me.
Instead of going to college to study art or film, I got married and had a son at 18 years old. The movie industry seemed impossible for me at that time, so I pursued drawing and painting outside of my day job in a factory.
I was divorced before I even turned 21. When I wasn’t working or with my son, I was drawing and painting and hanging out with my friends who DID end up studying art or film. I’d help out on different student films but never grasped it for myself. I played with photography and Photoshop, but video still seemed intimidating and expensive.
When I was 28, and my son was in middle school, I had my first public art show. On opening night, I sold about $3,500 worth of work. I was thrilled! That moment reinvigorated the dream of quitting my crappy job and chasing a creative dream. The next year, I enrolled in Art Education at GVSU and learned so many more creative skills there.
It was somewhere in there that I finally bought my first little DV tape camcorder and, not long after, acquired my first computer that could handle video editing. Then I was bringing my little camcorder everywhere, filming everything.
I didn’t graduate college, but I still worked a few years at a school in a Visual Communications program. I was a paraprofessional (student support) in the college-accredited high school Careerline Tech Center in Holland. I learned so many more things there. I helped students figure out how to make their creative ideas real. I was essentially getting paid to learn and practice more creative skills. It was amazing.
Over the years, the paintings got bigger, the cameras got better, and the computers got faster. And I did my best to enhance skills in all the things: drawing, painting, photography, Photoshop, graphic design, writing, directing, filming, editing, coloring.
I’ve been a freelance creative for over ten years now. My body of work is quite diverse, and I get to help tell a lot of meaningful stories.
What was the primary inspiration behind your film? How did the project come about?
For a while, the primary film/video jobs I was getting were serious topics for short nonprofit documentaries. They were meaningful, necessary, but also humorless. And I’d been dreaming of doing something fun.
I’ve been a customer of Organicycle Curbside Composting for around eight years. I truly believe in what they’re doing. Years ago, I couldn’t pay my quarterly bill and the owner, Dan Tietema, said not to worry about it, and he forgave the bill for that quarter — literally deleted my invoice for that quarter in the hopes I’d stay on as a customer. What business owner does that? I was touched by that and offered him my video and storytelling services. Three years later, Dan was finally ready to partner on something.
It was a fantastic first meeting with Dan and his lead composter. I showed them some of the things I’d directed and gained their trust. When I wrote my first draft of the script, it turned out silly and ‘unprofessional’ but the passion was there. I read the script out loud to a couple people and they laughed. And I thought, “could this goofy thing actually be the script? What would that even look like?”
I made an audio-only version using my voice for the voiceover, found some music and sound effects online and sent Dan a MP3. And to my shock, he responded with “I I love it. Let’s move forward.” I couldn’t believe someone had the same odd sense of humor as me.
Looking back, my top inspiration was probably a 5-minute short doc on YouTube called “This is John Baldessari.” So much is being communicated in such a short period of time. And it’s fun and funny! I’ve shown that to so many people over the years, and it was definitely an inspiration to me.
What was the biggest challenge you faced while making this movie, and how did you overcome it?
The biggest challenge was all the shots. At two minutes long, it contains 64 different shots. And since Organicycle is a small business, there wasn’t really a budget to hire a crew to help. The only scenes I needed a crew for were the cardboard puppet scenes and a couple animations clips. So I relied on my decades of creative image-making to pull it all off. I was determined to fulfill the vision, even if that meant failure. I had to see it through. And Organicycle never lost faith in the project. Dan’s response was always the same: “Can’t wait to see it. We trust you.”
When I finally showed him the full draft, he was excited. He smiled and giggled through the whole thing. It turned out better than either of us imagined. We’re both so proud of it and can’t wait to make more.
What about this project are you most proud of?
I’m proud of the message and the idealism of Organicycle. In two minutes, you ‘get it.’ Everyone I’ve shown it to wants to watch it again because there’s so much there. And that’s what I hope happens on social media — people will watch it a few times, share it, and remember it. That rarely happens with a ‘commercial,’ let alone one that’s a whole two minutes long.
Personally, the feedback I’m getting on this project makes me feel “seen.” It’s a short testimony to the passionate, middle-aged goofball that I really am — and that Dan really is. I’ve said to people, “This is me. This is my brain.” And the people who know me (and Dan) get it. They can see our playful fingerprints all over this. And I’m hoping so much to get more work like this.
taco time (Ethan Levine)
Two best friends rigorously debate what the most important aspect of a taco is while being robbed at gunpoint.
Spencer Everhart: How did you originally get into cinema and what has your journey been as a filmmaker up until now?
Ethan Levine: Early in my high school days I was obsessed with the show Community created by Dan Harmon. One night while I was watching it, I had an epiphany that people were writing the show and that I wanted to be one of those people. Then, in my junior and senior years of high school, I took a class called Television Production. It essentially was every morning we would livestream our morning announcements. After that, there were cameras and computers with Adobe Premiere, and we got to make our own little projects. In that class, I discovered a love for not just writing but the whole filmmaking process. I remember very distinctly the day I wanted to pursue filmmaking as a career. I got home from school one day, and I told my parents that I wanted to go to film school. I was expecting them to try and convince me out of it, but they just responded by saying, "Have you looked into any film schools?" I had not, but I quickly found Grand Valley State University, and in 2018 I started at GVSU. I remember thinking to myself that I wanted to stand out in film school, and the best idea I came up with was to try and be the weirdest one. I built from that ‘weird’ core and developed more of a style and voice with my writing. And I found the messages I wanted to write about from the philosophy classes I took for my minor. All of this culminated in my senior thesis taco time — which, if I may toot my own horn, I think is one of the weirdest and most philosophically profound films a 22-year-old has ever made (it's tough to portray sarcasm in text). Two years later, I've finally finished editing it and have to come to peace with the fact that some people (or many people) may not like it...or get it...but I do. And now I'm working on some new weird and interesting projects. Stay tuned.
What was the primary inspiration behind your film? How did the project come about?
taco time is essentially a piece on absurdist philosophy. In existentialism, absurdism is when the universe has no inherent meaning or purpose to it. Everything that is happening is simply happening with no metaphysical cause. It usually arises when one takes the position of ‘there is no higher power, i.e. God.’ Simply put, the universe is chaos. This was a big theme for 20th-century French existentialists like Sartre and Albert Camus, whom I quote at the beginning of taco time. Camus combats absurdism by almost embracing it. He essentially says, "The universe is absurd. But as humans, we may place meaning into it and take meaning from it. For without it, why live?" So, back to taco time — I present the viewer with an absurd and chaotic film filled with, I don't want to say “meaningless” but more like ‘yet-to-have-meaning-placed-into-it’ things, and there is the same idea with the main conversation. The meaning of the film is for the audience to realize they are the ones who wield the power of placing and pulling meaning and to go from there.
What was the biggest challenge you faced while making this movie, and how did you overcome it?
I think the biggest challenge was how out-there of an idea it was and trying to communicate that vision with my crew. I'm so thankful for my amazing production designer Zach Thomas because, at the time, we were living together and we'd spend hours at night in the kitchen trying to explain my vision while throwing out crazy ideas. He would always have a new fun idea for a background character or prop, and I would respond “Yes, if you can pull it off.” And he freaking pulled it off.
What about this project are you most proud of?
I have two things I'm most proud of for taco time. The first is the amount of people who wanted to, and were willing to help, pull it off. It's really touching having a bunch of friends eager to help. I think we have almost twenty people on set, which is kind of crazy for the actual scale of the project. And the vibes on set were so fun. The second, in my mind, is that we pulled it off. It may not be the exact vision I saw in my head, but I almost prefer it that way. I think it's a very interesting piece of media that is just very interesting to think about.
ON AKERMAN AND JEANNE DIELMAN
[BY: DAVID BLAKESLEE]
One of the primary motivators that got me involved with the Grand Rapids Film Society is the opportunity to present some of the greatest examples of world-class arthouse cinema on the big screen to members of our local community. I appreciate movies of all different sorts, and over the past year I’ve been delighted at the range of styles, genres, eras, and cultures that we’ve been able to weave into our monthly offerings. But I have to admit that my enthusiasm and excitement levels are highest when we get the chance to show works from the so-called canon of all-time classics — those titles that have accrued top-tier status with critics, academics, cinephiles, and assorted members of the intelligentsia who’ve studied the film medium for decades. Yes, I’ll admit it here — I don’t have any problem with being called an “elitist” if the tag seems to fit! Though the term is often wielded as an insult or accusation, I don’t consider it a form of exclusion or snobbery when it comes to appreciating excellence, innovation, broad cultural impact, and an overall provocative approach to art that takes risks to upend conventions, challenge the status quo, and give expression to ideas and experiences that are vitally important to understand and grapple with...even if, or especially if, the expressions lead us well outside our familiar zones of comfort and expertise.
Jeanne Dielman, 23, Commerce Quay, 1080 Bruxelles (1975) is a film that indisputably meets all the criteria listed above. Directed by Chantal Akerman when she was 24 years old, funded by a modest grant from the Belgian government, and running just over 200 slowly-paced minutes, the feature is composed of numerous long takes featuring minimal talking and no camera movement while depicting the mundane housekeeping routines of a woman approaching middle age. While there is a narrative and a character arc that occurs over the course of nearly 3.5 hours, the plot itself could have easily been told in half the film’s runtime (or less!) if Akerman’s interest was simply to walk us through the story of ‘what happens’ to Ms. Dielman. But she has other motives here beyond just setting up a series of events that go on to prove some kind of a point. The film (now most often referred to simply as Jeanne Dielman…) is presented to audiences as an immersive environment, a vicarious experience, a gateway into processes that occupy major portions of countless womens’ lives but are casually dismissed as insignificant, unvalued, and perhaps even to be regarded with contempt given how many decades it took for cinema to even begin considering the thought of depicting such activities on screen. The visual grammar, uncompromising approach, dedication to form, and audacious presentation of the film has split audiences into competing factions since it premiered nearly five decades ago at the 1975 Cannes Film Festival. Detractors considered it boring, self-indulgent, pointlessly repetitive, and a waste of their time. Others rose to defend its unique aesthetics, Akerman’s clarity of vision, the representation of an ordinary mode of life, and the singular dedication of Delphine Seyrig in the lead role as making a strong and lasting contribution to film culture. I think time has validated the latter perspective here, though the negative critiques persist to this day and will probably never entirely go away — especially now, in light of more recent developments.
Most readers of this column, I will assume, are familiar with the fact that in late 2022, Jeanne Dielman… was ranked #1 on the Sight and Sound Critics Poll, a once-per-decade survey that tallies ballots from an international, eclectic pool of invited participants who distinguish themselves in various ways for their scholarship, their insight, and their discernment in identifying the characteristics of enduring and important cinematic works. That #1 ranking is itself quite a polarizing achievement, one that drew immediate backlash when the poll results were announced. I think it’s fair to say that if the film had placed in the Top 10, maybe even Top 5, the naysayers would have probably been more restrained, perhaps even willing to give the film a nice (albeit condescending) nod of recognition as it climbed up the ranks from its #36 spot where it placed back in 2012. But to take the gold medal, even though its IMDb rating is a modest 7.5? To nudge its way to the podium by shoving aside the poll’s previous winners (Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo and the longtime consensus G.O.A.T. Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane)? A film shot by a Jewish lesbian feminist in her mid-20s, whose filmography is unarguably characterized as obscure and niche, with a total cumulative career box office haul that probably never even approached seven (or maybe even six) figures? Such nerve! What brazen temerity! An absurd exercise in political correctness! Totally woke nonsense! These were some of the opinions of a sizable number of those who reacted negatively upon hearing the news that sent them scrambling to understand and explain this outcome, mostly to themselves and perhaps their audience of perplexed (mainly ‘film bro’) viewers who sought them out for guidance on how to react.
So after that somewhat lengthy preamble, let me cut to the chase here: I think it’s very important — maybe even essential — that you, dear reader, make a commitment to come join us on Sunday, March 24, for a rare local theatrical presentation of The Greatest Film Ever Made! It’s a matinee showing, starting at 4:00pm, right in the middle of the afternoon; we’ll wrap things up well before 8:00 so you’ll have plenty of time to cap off your evening with whatever stimulating activities you’d care to engage with to bring your weekend to a close. Even if you’re inclined to enjoy Sunday afternoon naps, the start time is ideal to let you get in a few winks, then do what needs to be done in order to revive yourself and make your way down to Wealthy Theatre fully refreshed, alert, and ready to take it all in. I can’t promise that you’ll love it, but I know a lot of readers will find this a unique and mesmerizing experience, one that will stick in the memory bank for many years to come, especially as the viewing will be accompanied by the energy of a live audience (rather than the simple pleasures of watching it at home, which is the only way I’ve ever experienced this film).
And for those of you who are new to Chantal Akerman’s oeuvre, I do seriously recommend that you take some time to get familiar with at least a few of the films that she made prior to and shortly after Jeanne Dielman… This past January, the Criterion Collection published a comprehensive 3-disc Blu-ray set titled Chantal Akerman Masterpieces 1968-1978 that gathers up the entirety of her first decade of filmmaking. It’s a wonderful collection of nine foundational works, lovingly-curated with a rich array of supplemental features that escort us into the cultural milieu that Akerman inhabited at the beginning of her trailblazing career. It’s my top recommendation for anyone looking to study up on what she was all about. But if budgetary constraints are a concern, one can also stream most of the films in that set on the Criterion Channel (there are a few minor works that are exclusive to the box set). One might also be able to find good deals on earlier home video releases of several of the titles that Criterion issued in years past on DVD and Blu-ray now that a more definitive edition has supplanted the older offerings.
And speaking of those earlier discs, in years past I’ve published several written reviews and also recorded a podcast that may provide helpful insight on what makes these films so special. Without further ado, I’ll conclude this article with a series of links to that material in case any of you want to go deeper down the rabbit hole. But even if you’re not quite ready to do the prep work that I advise, I do hope that you’ll take us up on the invitation to pay a visit this coming weekend to Jeanne Dielman, 23, Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles.
The New York Films (La chambre / Hotel Monterey / News From Home) [REVIEW, 2010]
je tu il elle [REVIEW, 2011]
Les rendez-vous d’Anna [REVIEW, 2012]
The Eclipse Viewer – Episode 42 – Chantal Akerman in the Seventies [PODCAST, 2016]
And even though I didn’t write it myself, here’s an excellent review written by a friend of mine about Jeanne Dielman…
Scott Reviews Chantal Akerman’s Jeanne Dielman, 23, Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles [CRITERION BLU-RAY REVIEW, 2017]
UPCOMING EVENTS
WHAT: Join us for another FREE GRFS social event and chat about filmmaking, screenwriting, and cinephilia with other like-minded members of the GR film community.
WHEN: Thursday, March 21st, 7:00pm
WHERE: The Front Studio Annex — right next to the Wealthy Theatre!
JEANNE DIELMAN, 23, QUAI DU COMMERCE, 1080 BRUXELLES (Akerman, 1975)
WHAT: Jeanne Dielman days are divided between humdrum domestic chores, and her job as an occasional prostitute. She seems perfectly resigned to her situation until a series of slight interruptions in her routine leads to unexpected and dramatic changes.
WHEN: Sunday, March 24th, 4:00 pm.
WHERE: The Wealthy Theatre
THE KING OF COMEDY (Scorsese, 1982)
WHAT: Rupert Pupkin (Robert DeNiro) is a failure in life but a celebrity in his own mind, hosting an imaginary talk show in his mother's basement. When he meets actual talk show host Jerry Langford (Jerry Lewis), he kidnaps him, offering his release in exchange for a guest spot on his show.
WHEN: Monday, April 1st, 8:00 pm.
WHERE: The Wealthy Theatre
And so we’ve arrived at the end of another BEAM FROM THE BOOTH! We appreciate you taking the time to read it and truly hope you’ll continue to do so. Be sure to SUBSCRIBE to get each issue in your inbox every MONDAY, and stay up-to-date on all things GRFS.
Plus, join us on social media! We’d love to chat with everyone and hear YOUR OWN thoughts on everything above (you can also hop in the comments section below).
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Look for ISSUE #50 in your inbox on NEXT MONDAY, 03/25!
Until then, friends...
