Out of Focus

THE GOTHAMIST INTERVIEW: JUNE DAY 4 - ROBIN I. SHANE

When I moved to New York in Oct. 1996, I knew basically nobody. I had one friend with whom I had worked in LA a few years earlier. We weren't that close at the time, but I could legitimately call her friend. Then I knew this couple who were friends of another friend: the woman I had met twice, the guy once. They were very generous to me, though, offering me their couch until I found a place to stay, etc. But I lucked into a teeny-tiny studio sublet on 3rd Street between 1st and 2nd Avenues. It didn't matter so much how small it was: I was working my ass off in my first job at HBO, often not getting home until 10 or 11 PM.

So I didn't know many people, and I didn't have so much time to socialize anyway, but I did have my hole of solitude on E. 3rd Street. Back then, the big online dating sites like match.com or nerve or whatever, weren't really around now, and people were still winging it in chat rooms. I never really got into the chat room thing, but sometimes late at night I would troll the profiles on AOL of people who were online and occasionally I would IM someone.

One night I came across a woman about six months younger than me who had written something or another that really struck me. She and I started chatting and discovered we had a lot in common, particularly our backgrounds in and love for theater. We decided to meet. I don't think it took either of us very long to decide we weren't going to be dating anytime soon -- besides, I'm pretty sure she was already also sort of seeing her eventual husband! -- but we became fast friends. And although we often go months without talking to or even around a year without seeing each other, our own particular friendship has always been really strong and wonderful.

Now in case you're really slow (which is OK; I often am), you're probably putting two-and-two together and realizing that this friend of mine is today's Gothamist Interview. And you'd be right, because not only is Robin Shane a good friend of mine, but she's also a very talented costume designer and one of the hardest working people I've ever met. Most recently, and again in the coming months, she's been working with Maurice Sendak and Tony Kushner on a couple of operas that premiered in Chicago and are about to play Berkeley, New York and Boston over the course of the next year. Meanwhile, she's also planning to start her own business designing, manufacturing and selling practical and useful baby items that don't currently exist in the marketplace. Robin is one of the best people you could ever meet, and if you go read her interview, you'll only get the smallest glimpse of why. But do it anyway.

THIS IS NOT A MUSIC BLOG BUT ... GO SEE THE PICTURE

Today is the inauguration of a new (and likely short-lived) feature here on Out of Focus, one called (stay with me), "This is not a music blog but...." I'm not going to suddenly try to start giving people info on the hot new bands because there are so many others out there more in the know who do it better than I do. BUT, as I have been making it to a lot more live music recently and I have wanted to chat about it a bit, every now and then, I'm going to add my two cents.

When Luna Lounge shuttered its decade-old Ludlow Street home on June 11, the band that had the opportunity to headline that night and go down in history as the last band to play Luna was The Picture. I had actually been handed a disc of theirs one night coming out of Irving Plaza, and I had listened to it and enjoyed it ... and forgotten about it. Then I saw them at Luna that night and absolutely loved them.

Tonight at Bowery Ballroom, The Picture is the first band on a great bill that includes Benzos and Longwave (who released their third album yesterday and was another Luna favorite and mainstay; in fact, Rob Sacher who owns Luna released Longwave's first album on his own indie label, Luna Sea Records).

It should be a great show, and well-worth seeing. Some of The Picture's songs are ridiculously catchy, in a Fountains of Wayne/New Pornographers way, and you can get them on their just released EP. You can also stream four of their songs on their MySpace page. I particularly enjoy "Blind Side" and "Sellout." Give 'em a listen.

(Hmmm ... is anyone bothered by the fact that I did not include a picture of a band called The Picture? No? Good.)

THE GOTHAMIST INTERVIEW: JUNE DAY 3 -- TIM MCHENRY

Hey, we're back. Yay, no? And we're here all week, natch! Today's Gothamist Interview is with a guy named Tim McHenry who is the director of programming for the Rubin Museum of Art. What's that? Like me you're a little slow on the uptake and have never heard of the Rubin Museum of Art? For shame, for shame. (While I shame you, please forget the part where I just wrote "like me." Thanks.)

For shame!

The Rubin Museum of Art is a, uh, museum, that is dedicated to art and artifacts from the Himalayas. Yeah, that's narrowing their niche, but apparently, not as much as you may think. You also may not be completely aware of the museum's existence because it's only been around for a year. If you live in NYC, though, you are likely cognizant of its Chelsea location as it is the occupant of the old Barneys building on 17th Street at 7th Avenue.

More interesting to those of you who come here to help satiate bits of your film addiction (HA! I said those as if it's more than just me! Sometimes I kill myself) is a really cool program which Tim actually runs. It's called "Cabaret Cinema" and it's a pretty eclectically programmed series featuring alcohol. In fact, the series tagline is "Where movies and martinis mix," and technically, you pay a $12 (minimum) bar tab to drink things like lychee martinis and then your admission to the film is free. Not such a bad deal. The program is every Saturday night at 7, and there's often a speaker to introduce the film(s). Upcoming screenings inclulde Jurassic Park this Saturday with an introduction by "noted paleontologist Dr. Lowell Dingus of the American Museum of Natural History;"Princess Monoke on July 9; and on July 16, one of my all-time favorite films (as I've often mentioned), The Red Shoes, featuring an introduction by New Yorker dance critic Joan Acocella. You can find more information about upcoming programs at the web site.

So take a visit to the Rubin in Chelsea, but first head over to Gothamist and read about Tim. He's a fascinating guy with a very quick wit, and his interview is a lot of fun.

-- Photograph by Liz Brown

IF ONLY THIS STELLA HAD ENTERED WHEN CALLED

Last week I went to see A Streetcar Named Desire with Natasha Richardson and John C. Reilly at Studio 54. Tennesse Williams has long been my favorite playwright, but I've been incredibly unlucky when it comes to seeing good productions of his great plays. In this case, Studio 54 is just too big a space and Reilly (as much as I love him in almost everything) is totally miscast as Stanley. From the moment of his first entrance, bellowing "Stella" as loud as he can, something felt off, and the rest of the play, while it had its moments, was a pretty big bore.

What would have made the show tremendously better might have been if Stella had left the stage and been replaced by ... Stella. The new show premiering tonight on Comedy Central at 10:30 PM from former members of The State -- Michael Ian Black, Michael Showalter and David Wain -- is absolutely hysterical. I've heard some people have had trouble describing exactly what Stella is. I don't -- it's The Three Stooges for the 21st Century. The Comedy Central web site calls them a "modern day Marx Brothers," which fits as well, but I still think the Stooges comparison makes more sense, even though there's less of the physical slapstick. Black, Showalter and Wain have created a world of absurdity in which everyone, not just the three of them, doesn't view anything as absurd. But that's what makes it funny. The other people in this world see the two Michaels and a David as fools, yet are still oblivious to the stupidity of all the situations. Meanwhile, our three "heroes" manage to approach every moment with a placid innocence and straight-forwardness that is utterly honest.

There are many laugh-out-loud moments in Stella. (My favorite involves a Co-op board interview that turns into the audition sequence at the end of Flashdance.) My only regret in seeing the first episode early is that I have to wait that much longer to see the next episode. Stella may be "Dumb comedy dressed up in a suit," but it's smart dumb comedy. I've been having this conversation with several friends recently who think that I'm sometimes too critical of certain films, especially "dumb ones." They think I don't like dumb comedy, but I really do. I just like it when it's smart, and no that's not a contradiction. South Park is smart dumb comedy. I wasn't a fan of Dude, Where's My Car? because it was simply dumb. But Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle was absolutely hilarious -- and plenty dumb. Yet it managed to be dumb while being clever. There is a difference, and while I can only base it on one episode (and nothing more as I never saw the live Stella shows), Stella seems to know where that line is and stays on the right side of it.

With Stella following the very funny Reno 911! -- another show from a different group of former members of The State -- Comedy Central's 10 PM hour on Tuesday definitely has become the place to go if you want the funny!

MISCELLANEOUS MISCELLANY: BELATED NOTES FROM THE WEEKEND

So as I mentioned before, Monday kind of got away from me. So did the entire weekend. How did it fly by like that? I've been meaning to mention my last visit to the Beekman Theater and the gorgeous night in Prospect Park seeing hearing Stars and The New Pornographers. Plus all the stuff I somehow managed not to get to last week. (sigh).I don't even feel like I had a lazy day, yet I don't think I was all that productive either. But I was busy. Maybe the weather did it to me. I went to a meeting just as it was starting to rain, and I was asked if it was raining outside, I said, "It's kind of a heavy spitting!" You know what I mean, somewhere in between that annoying misty drizzle and actual rain?

But I digress:

• Do you want to know what the Stars look like in Brooklyn? How about some Pornographers? Well, the former is on the left; the latter on the right. Yeah, they look pretty similar, no? I've never seen the bandshell area this crowded, and granted, I've only been to the Celebrate Brooklyn programs two or three times before, but this was crazy. It was nice sitting on the lawn, but our placement sucked. Even though we arrived around 7:15, the place was totally packed, and people kept flowing in, eventually deciding to make the outdoor space like any LES club with the walkway becoming standing room only, thereby blocking the view of those of us who were taking it all in with a slightly more relaxed attitude. (Yeah, crappy camera, it was dark, you can't see anything anywhere, but ahhh ... there's the point.)

  

• You know what would have been really cool? Instead of The Interpreter, a final screening at the Beekman Theater of Annie Hall. Or, if they wanted to be super-smart and cool, Clearview Cinemas might have thought it clever to show Ingmar Bergman's Face to Face -- the film Woody Allen's Alvy was waiting to see except Annie showed up late. Maybe even in a double bill. That would be the way to send this lovely single-screen theater -- which still retains a sense of the '50s era when it was built -- off to its doom in style. Maybe even a double-bill of Bergman and Allen. It might have made the place a bit more lively.

  Sure Saturday was a sunny day, and I went to an early show, but talk about dead. When I got there, they didn't even have enough staff on hand with one woman manning both the box office and the concessions stand, which are not close together at all. It's hard to bemoan the Beekman's departure when the replacement will me an outpatient center for breast cancer patients, among other Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center operations.

  The loss of another single-screen movie house in New York saddens me, but it's what's happening all over the country. My pilgrimage to the Beekman was really more to represent my mourning of the closing of another favorite movie theater. Earlier this year, the Coronet on Geary Blvd. in San Francisco was shuttered, to be torn down in order to build a parking lot or retirement community or something. All I know is the Coronet was my favorite theater growing up. One of the largest in San Francisco, it's where all the big Hollywood blockbusters played. It's where I saw the first Star Wars when I was still just six years old. It's where I remember seeing a rerelease of The Sound of Music. I waited in line for Batman there, and so many other movies while growing up in San Francisco. Like the Ziegfeld and the Beekman in Manhattan, it was separated into an orchestra section and a mezzanine, and I remember back in the '70s and early '80s, the mezzanine was the smoking section. You had to pay extra (I don't remember, 50 cents or $1?) to sit in the mezzanine, and ushers would stand guard, but we'd still sneak our way up there when we could. And of course, in the mid-'80s, there was no better place to hide and smoke.

  Those were the end days of movie theaters being thought of as theaters. Where movies were an event and the theaters a destination. When pre-show entertainment was disappearing and wasn't as focused on advertisements for anything other than hot dogs, popcorn and candy. I love the modern stadium seating theaters for their comfort and the advanced technology of their exhibition, but theaters like the Coronet and the Beekman had a personality and a character that is all too quickly being cleansed from the world of cinema.

THE GOTHAMIST INTERVIEW: JUNE DAY 2 - FRANCESCA KAPLAN

What is it with these days right now. Today just flew by, and nothing got done. I mean, OK, this interview got up, but look at how late I am with this post. And besides, I'm sure you're all wondering: "It's Monday yet it's day 2 of Aaron's Gothamist Interviews?" That's right. Did you forget so quickly how we ran Day 1 with John Vanco just over a week ago? (And has anyone visited the IFC Center since its opening?) Ah, those short attention span. Well, this week is actually our week (minus tomorrow when another interviewer has what should be an interesting read), and today starts with Francesca Kaplan. Lily took the lead on this one again, and now I have a total crush on Francesca. (Of course, she has a fiance, so I can admit to crushes. And besides, there's no way that I have the style confidence to carry off wearing her designs, so you know, nowhere to go, and all!) Francesca is an artist/designer/stylist -- she does incredibly interesting things with clothing and handbags and other accessories (and you can see a bunch of her work here). And personally, I just found her comments on the state of fashion and art and design really interesting.

MISCELLANEOUS MISCELLANY: WRITING IS HARD

So I guess I haven't been too attentive to this space this week. Maybe it's because I've actually been busy. Not necessarily doing anything important, mind you, but somehow I managed to not be home one night this week, and been relatively on-the-go since before last weekend with some sort of even every day/night. Last Sunday I had the pleasure of seeing the Broadway revival of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and then went to see a friend's friend's band -- The Northern Hues -- play their first show at Mercury Lounge. Then Monday night was Gothamist's Movable Hype at the Knitting Factory, and what an amazing show that was. All the bands were great, but especially Clap Your Hands Say Yeah and Ghostland Observatory (who the entire blogosphere seems to be talking up right now, deservedly so, and I don't just say that because the singer has such a great name).

Tuesday I went to see "The Other Network" and sat through four (our of six!) of the funniest TV pilots (all unsold) possibly ever, two of them proving once again why Robert Smigel is thecomic genius of our time. Wednesday night I sat through a very disappointing performance of A Streetcar Named Desire -- wrong performance space (Studio 54 is way too big), wrong lead actor (no matter how much I love John C. Reilly, he's Mitch, not Stanley!). And last night I saw a screening of Yes, which I guess I found more interesting than enjoyable ... and still not even all that interesting.

See, I'm just throwing stuff out there because you know what? Writing is hard. Or I'm hardly writing. One of the two. I've got stuff; I just find that I'm having a hard time putting fingers to keyboard. But there were a few other things I wanted to mention to any of you interested:

DID YOU EVER KNOW THAT YOU'RE MY HERO

Writing that last post reminded me (yet, again) of something I've been forgetting for the last two days. It is only right, just and fair that I take a little of my space here to honor what in my world (obvs) is a magnificent achievement. Namely, giving the word "marathon" its due. I've sat through five films in a row at the AMC Empire 25. I've even then come home and watched a DVD or two. But seven? Seven! Seven is a challenge which, as soon as I can find the time and plan it correctly, I will have to undertake myself.

In the mean time, bravo Matty! Job well done.

I PICTURE A BRIDGE OVER 42ND STREET, CONNECTING THE EMPIRE AND E-WALK CREATING A MAGICAL WORLD OF 35 SCREENS

Or maybe not. The news today -- a merger between AMC and Loews Cineplex to create the second largest exhibitor in the nation -- is especially major for New York. Loews is the oldest theater chain in the country, started in New York by Marcus Loew in 1904. The new company will apparently be called "AMC Entertainment." My guess is that, maybe not right away but before too long, just as Regal Entertainment slowly but surely rid its chain of complexes bearing the United Artists name. (In fact, if you go to the Regal Battery Park 11, you can still see on the building banners bears the old "United Artists Battery Park 11.")

OK, so Loews may not be the same as it was when huge movie palaces like the Loew's State on Broadway (now a Virgin Megastore with a small fourplex of discount movie theaters underground) used to host all the huge premieres in a fashion now reminiscent of those really only seen at LA's Grauman's Chinese Theater in Hollywood or the Village in Westwood, and palaces have been replaced by multiplexes (the magnificence of stadium seating still will never replace the character of an interior like the Ziegfeld -- even though it only dates back to the 60s -- or, my all-time favorite movie theater, the aforementioned Mann's Fox Village in Westwood. But more importantly here in NYC, will this town which until now had one AMC complex suddenly be overrun by them? Will the very name of "Loews" be gone. I mean, the "Thank you for coming to Loews/Sit back and relax/Enjoy the show!" theme song has been mostly missing for some time already. Are we about to see the last of the name of the pioneer of film exhibition? It's at least a little sad, no?

Meanwhile, I'm actually very interested in seeing what happens to the E-Walk and the Empire, literally across the street from each other. Can one company afford to keep both places open? The E-Walk has (I believe) two theaters that rank among the largest screens in all of New York City, but the Empire is a larger complex with roughly twice as many houses. Still, I wonder if AMC doesn't have trouble filling some of those screens at times -- a problem they wouldn't have if films that were otherwise exclusive to the Loews chain in New York was available to them. And what, if anything, does this mean to Clearview Cinemas -- owned by corporate giant Cablevision/Rainbow Media which, strangely enough, also owns IFC and the new IFC Center -- and even small independent City Cinemas. Is Regal, with only a small toehold in Manhattan at Union Square and Batter Park City, going to go after either of those chains? (Probably not. None of their theaters, except for maybe the Clearview Chelsea, is a big or modern enough complex.)

I've actually been fascinated by exhibitor ownership recently. Back in the early days of movies, the major studios also owned the theater chains, hence names like "Fox" on top of the Village in Westwood, or the Paramount Theater here in New York. But anti-trust issues forced the studios to sell-off all their theaters and creating an entirely separate marketplace. These days, the studios still don't control the movie houses (at least not directly), but the companies that do keep consolidating. What is interesting, however, is how some people on the smaller, independent, arthouse circuit or creating distribution pipelines that, in some way, mirror the early days of Hollywood. Billionaires Mark Cuban and Todd Wagner have created/bought several companies (2929 Entertainment, Magnolia Pictures, HDNet, HDNet Films, Landmark Theaters) which give them holdings in the development, production, distribution and exhibition of films and television. Rainbow Media's IFC and IFC Films already develops, produces and acquires features, has its own cable channel and now has opened the IFC Center which, while not showing IFC product exclusively, will (I believe) premiere all IFC Films features with a minimum of a two week exclusivity window in lower Manhattan. Other independent companies have tried to do something similar overtime to not as much success (Madstone Pictures and their theaters come to mind.)

Is there anything wrong with this? Not really. Certainly not on this level. Even with a chain as large as Landmark, the kind of movies and distribution platforms we're talking about are usually at best in the hundreds of screens rather than the three-to-five thousand of most major Hollywood releases. Still, as "independent" film keeps becoming less and less independent, I find it interesting to note how the now full-of-money, non-indie movement is, maybe unintentionally, following a similar path as the original business model of the very institution it so often decries.

Now, if only they would build that bridge. Can you imagine how many movies you could theater hop in a day with over 35 screens?!?!?

THE GOTHAMIST INTERVIEW: JUNE DAY 1 - JOHN VANCO

Don't get too excited here. Yes, this is a Friday, and yes that header says it's "Day 1" of my monthly trip into the Gothamist Interview, but this is a bit of one-and-we're-done this month ... at least for the time being. That is, come Monday, I won't have another one for you. Come a week from Monday, however, is another story.

But today's interview is running for a very special reason. At long last, after much discussion and a few delays, New York cinephiles get to spend even more time figuring out where the hell they're going to see yet another movie. Today is opening day for the IFC Center, on the site of the formerly Waverly Theater on 6th Avenue at 3rd Street, and if you want to read a little bit about what you can expect from the latest entry into the arthouse, repertory, revival New York City movie theater circuit, then you'll want to get clicking over to Gothamist to read Lily's and my interview with John Vanco.

John has been a fixture on the New York film scene for quite a while, most notably as the co-founder and head of Cowboy Pictures. John has a true passion for cinema, something that totally comes out in his interview. It sure as hell seems like the IFC Center couldn't be in better hands.

Meanwhile, I actually had the opportunity to visit the IFC Center a couple weeks ago and get a sneak peak. They were still putting some last touches on some of the construction, especially things like wall treatments and light fixtures, but I must say that this place looks like it was worth the wait. The main theater holds 220 and is in the actual space that used to be the Waverly. The original walls of the Waverly (actually, of the building that was a church before it became a theater) still stand, beautiful exposed brick surrounding you, and a 60 foot high ceiling that seems to disappear into darkness. The most remarkable thing about this theater is how intimate it feels. At the Regal Battery Park (the main venue for the Tribeca Film Festival, two of the theaters hold roughly 240 seats, yet they both feel pretty massive -- certainly much larger than this beautiful main house at the IFC Center which in capacity is only smaller by 20.

There are two more theaters upstairs, one holding 120 and the other (I believe) 70. Each theater (as well as the main one downstairs) has small individual design characteristics, with brand new (and pretty comfortable) seating. John told me that audience flow is going to dictate what films get put into which houses, but it's obvious that the new releases (like Miranda July's Cannes Camera d'Or winner Me and You and Everyone We Know which opens the new complex today) will start and probably spend the most time in the 220 house with the holdovers and programmed features screening in the two upstairs theaters.

For those thinking that the three screen set-up, featuring one premiere screen, one rep/revival screen and one screen for holdovers sounds a lot like Film Forum, well you're right. And if you read this site, you know how much I love Film Forum. But Vanco is definitely putting his own programming stamp on the IFC Center, and it seems really exciting. Plus, as much as I love Film Forum's programming, it's not exactly the most comfortable space, and none of the screens are particularly large. While I didn't actually see any projection or hear the sound in any of the theaters, the screens are all of a pretty good size, and the seating is very comfortable, plus all the projection and audio equipment is (I've been told) state-of-the-art and top-of-the-line, with HD projection available in each theater as well as digital audio.

It's really a great new complex, and even though the stretch of 6th Avenue on which it sits has become a very strange and different part of the Village, unlike anything around it whatsoever, I hope the IFC Center becomes a landmark film institution for years to come. I know I'll be spending plenty of time there.