All these wonderful things

Tim Hetherington, 1970-2011

[Tim Hetherington, center, at January's Cinema Eye Honors, where he was nominated for Outstanding Production and Audience Choice Prize. Photo by Deneka Peniston.]

This morning, we were devastated to hear the news that Tim Hetherington, the acclaimed war photographer, journalist and Oscar-nominated co-director of RESTREPO, had been killed in Libya earlier today in the besieged city of Misrata.  Hetherington was one of four journalists to be hit by a rocket-propelled grenade - at least two others, including Getty photographer Chris Hondros, were gravely injured and clinging to life.

In an interview the day he was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature, with co-director Sebastian Junger, Hetherington related that a journalist had asked the filmmakers whether being nominated was something they thought about while filming in Afghanistan.  Junger replied, "Well, actually the foremost thing in my head was not to get killed."

In December, we spoke to Hetherington and Junger about their work on the film and I asked Junger what he had learned from working with Hetherington:

"I learned a lot.  I mean, writers don’t necessarily think in visual terms and, so, Tim was just aware of things.  He was just aware of the visual world in a way that I wasn’t.  Once there was a very boring afternoon and nothing was happening.  There hadn’t been a firefight in a week, everyone was hot and I was just completely zoned out.  And everyone was asleep, everyone in the outpost was asleep practically.  It was like mid-afternoon nap, just the buzz of flies and that’s it.  And Tim was creeping around photographing all the sleeping soldiers.  And for me it was the epitome of a moment where nothing was happening, there was no story to record, and Tim was like, “When do you ever see soldiers asleep, nobody ever sees soldiers asleep.  This is awesome.”  And I realized, oh my God, everything has a value.  So, as a result, I wrote a paragraph about what’s it’s like to be at an outpost where everyone’s asleep.  And that paragraph’s in the book.  So that was just one example of the little ways that we affected each other.  And Tim would think really conceptually about things – as a journalist, I think in a kind of linear fashion and Tim would really think conceptually, like what’s the emotional experience out here.  He would organize his thoughts in a way that wasn’t linear, it was something else.  And that was one of the reasons I divided my book into “Fear”, “Killing” and “Love”.  I was trying to figure out a narrative for the book and literally I was like, OK, do like Tim does.  Think about it conceptually, not linearly.  That’s two of the many things that rubbed off on me."

Richard "Ricky" Leacock, 1921-2011

Richard "Ricky" Leacock, the London-born filmmaker whose work with Robert Drew and D.A. Pennebaker would revolutionize and come to define a generation's view of documentary film, has died in Paris at the age of 89.

Reports of Leacock's death began to circulate on Twitter several hours ago and the French film site Allocine.com confirmed Leacock's passing.  The Paris-based documentary festival Cinéma du Réel, which opens today, is planning to dedicate a portion of the festival to Leacock.  Leacock and his partner/collaborator Valerie Lalonde moved to Paris in 1989 where they made such films as LES OEUFS ET LA COQUE.

Born in 1921, Leacock would make his first film, CANARY BANANAS (about his father's banana plantation on the Canary Islands) at the age of just 14.  As Leacock recounted on his exceptional website:

"I wrote a detailed script with little drawings of each shot. Polly was script-clerk, Noel was my assistant. My father provided us with an ancient Morris-Oxford touring car. We made reflectors of plywood covered with silver paint, and we smoked cigars because that is what they did in Hollywood! Back at school I edited with rewinds and cement splices. Then we projected. I knew even then that the script was not sacred, that in filming you found things to be different and adjusted accordingly."

Soon after making CANARY BANANAS, Leacock would have the opportunity to meet Robert Flaherty, who happened to be the father of two of Leacock's classmates.

"He was outside in the schoolyard with a 16mm Kodak Cine-Special (a very fancy camera) mounted on a huge tripod (an Akeley-Gyro) and was filming Barbara McDermott combing her long blond hair. He went on and on. He changed angles, he changed lenses, but he went on and on and I thought, “He must be mad!” and she just kept on combing her hair. Later that day, Bill Hunter brought me to his room and introduced me to Mr. Flaherty and his wife Frances. Hunter had shown them my film and they said some nice things about it, though Mrs. Flaherty mentioned that they were not that impressed by the chop-chop editing of the water sequence. Mr. Flaherty concluded by saying that “Someday we will work together...” or some such, which I took with a huge pinch of salt."

A Story About George Hickenlooper and the Summer of 2008

By now you have probably heard that the filmmaker George Hickenlooper, who co-directed the landmark documentary HEARTS OF DARKNESS, the much appreciated MAYOR OF THE SUNSET STRIP and a number of other features, documentaries and shorts, died on Saturday in Denver at the very young age of 47.

Many of the reports stated that Hickenlooper was in town for the Opening Night screening of his new fiction film, CASINO JACK, at the Denver Film Festival.  But that wasn't until this Thursday.  He was in Denver this weekend to support and film the last few days of his cousin John Hickenlooper's campaign for Governor. 

I met George for the first time several years back at the St. Louis Film Festival.  George was from St. Louis, I was too, and on more than one occasion he and I were both called back to film-related events sponsored by Cinema St. Louis.

While I didn’t know George well - we'd mostly converse politely when we'd find ourselves back in Missouri - I ended up spending a good deal of time around him and his cousin John in Denver during the summer of 2008 – and the story I can tell from that experience says something special, I think, about George’s character.

Gail Dolgin, Oscar-Nominated Director of DAUGHTER FROM DANANG, Has Died

Gail Dolgin, who along with co-director Vincente Franco, was nominated for the Best Documentary Feature Oscar in 2003 for DAUGHTER FROM DANANG, has died from cancer at 65.

Although Dolgin passed away on October 7, word is just now reaching some in the documentary and independent film community, following obituaries yesterday in Variety and the LA Times.  ITVS' Beyond the Box Blog featured a tribute by Senior Programming Manager Richard Saiz one week ago:

"Personally, it was always a pleasure to work with Gail.  She was a complete professional who not only created powerful documentaries, but also contributed to ITVS as a skillful and insightful panelist and reader for Open Call.

Beneath the cool intellect and measured demeanor, was the fervent spirit of a woman motivated by a desire to examine America’s history through the documentary. Gail believed in the power of  television to enlighten and educate American audiences about our character as a nation."

DAUGHTER FROM DANANG won the Grand Jury prize at the 2002 Sundance Film Festival prior to its Oscar nomination in what ended up being a turning-point year for documentaries and the Academy.  Dolgin, along with her fellow nominees, joined Oscar winner Michael Moore onstage as he attacked the Bush administration in the early days of the Iraq war. 

Balcony Releasing co-founder Connie White wrote us today of her experience working with Dolgin on DANANG:

"I guess I could simply say that Gail was so special to me. DAUGHTER FROM DANANG was the first film Balcony Releasing distributed - in fact the company was created in order to distribute her film - and we both learned as we went along. She actually revelled in that situation, seemed to enjoy being our first project and encouraged me to pursue other distribution projects after DFD was finished in theaters. She was so energetic and engaged in her work and her friendships. What a loss for all of us!"

Did the NYPD Play a Role in the Death of Karen Schmeer?

Three days after the tragic death of documentary editor Karen Schmeer, the story is still reverberating through the media, in large part because of the senseless and newsworthy way in which she died.

It wasn't just a hit-and-run, it was a hit-and-run that involved petty criminals - shoplifters who grabbed over-the-counter allergy medicine (often used to make crystal meth).  And the early reaction seemed to uniformly condemn the perpetrators. 

But now, some are wondering if the NYPD is not, at least partially, to blame.  The NY Daily News posits differing accounts of the fatal crash:

"A police source said cops tried to pull over the suspects minutes before the crash, but they lost the car momentarily.

When they caught up with the vehicle, it had already struck Schmeer, as well as several other vehicles.

Witnesses at the scene painted a slightly different picture, saying they saw the car weaving in and out of traffic going north on Broadway with a squad car with lights and sirens blaring in hot pursuit."

The Livable Streets Initiative's Streetsblog posts today and references the contradictions, wondering "why officers would be engaged in a high-speed pursuit on the Upper West Side at dinner time on a Friday.":

"Schmeer's death marks the latest in a string of deadly crashes in which pursuing officers are suspected or known to be involved. Last spring, Streetsblog talked to several witnesses who said a car thief was fleeing police when he hit and killed 38-year-old Greenpoint mother Violetta Kryzak. The commanding officer of Brooklyn's 94th Precinct said the department had "no indication" that a pursuit occurred...

The list goes on, and the question remains: How can NYPD support its claim that it did nothing wrong when witnesses say otherwise?"

Acclaimed Documentary Editor Karen Schmeer Killed in Manhattan Hit-and-Run

Gut-wrenching news began to circulate around New York, Park City and the entire independent film community this morning when word went out that acclaimed editor Karen Schmeer, longtime collaborator of Errol Morris, was killed in a hit-and-run accident Friday night in Manhattan.

Schmeer worked with Morris on FAST, CHEAP AND OUT OF CONTROL, MR. DEATH and the Oscar-winning FOG OF WAR.  She is credited as a co-editor of Morris' most recent film, STANDARD OPERATING PROCEDURE.  She also edited Robb Moss' THE SAME RIVER TWICE, Sidney Pollack's SKETCHES OF FRANK GEHRY and Lucia Small's MY FATHER, THE GENIUS.

Moments ago, Morris broke the news on Twitter:

SENSELESS TRAGEDY: My beloved editor Karen Schmeer was killed last night by a car used in the robbery of a drugstore.  She was 39 years old.

There is expected to be a moment of tribute to Schmeer at tonight's Sundance Film Festival Awards, where Schmeer received the Editing Award last year for her work on Greg Barker's SERGIO.  Barker is reportedly going to present this year's editing prize at tonight's ceremony.  [Update: You can read the text of Barker's remarks here.]

According to an early article in the New York Times, Schmeer (not named in the article) was crossing Broadway near West 90th Street when she was struck, just before 8 PM. 

Thanks to Garret Savage, Karen's friend and fellow editor, for the above photograph.

Vic Chesnutt, 1964-2009

From the DVD extras of Jem Cohen and Pete Sillen's documentary, BENJAMIN SMOKE:

Kristin Hersh offers a tribute and encourages donations to help Chesnutt's family.

Lynn Meyer, 1925-2009

Point of personal privilege…

On Saturday, my Aunt Lynn passed away.  She’d had no end of medical difficulties since she had a stroke nearly two years ago and we’d known for the past week that the situation was grave, but the loss remains.

It’s nearly impossible to write about her without first talking about what a pain in the ass she could sometimes be.  When something would set her off, she could be withering in her dealings with you.  As a child, this was sometimes devastating.  But as I grew up, I started to – playfully – engage this side of her personality.  For instance, when she told me (after I’d been out of college a couple years) that she was eagerly awaiting the day that I matured (pronounced ma-toored, naturally), I responded that I’d send her a card to let her know when that day had, in fact, arrived.

Long after that, even as she began to grasp and root for my filmmaking career, she couldn’t quite understand why I didn’t ever wear (or really even own) a suit. 

But during the last ten or so years, particularly before the stroke, we found a common language.  I recognized the artist in her (she was the one who had always painted, who thrilled when I called her from Paris after touring the Rodin Museum); she proudly followed the beginnings of my filmmaking career (she’d listen to the local movie show on the radio in Chicago and call me whenever they talked about documentaries or film festivals). 

Those phone calls became regular, practically weekly.  We’d talk politics.  While probably more of a Republican, she could vote on either side of the aisle and I knew the tone of the country had shifted when she told me she had turned against the Iraq War.  She would have loved CONVENTION.  She loved to see how things worked and loved to see when things did work.

She loved talking about movies.  She dragged my mom to see BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN because, well, it was going to be in the Oscar race and gosh darn it if she didn’t want to know what the fuss was. 

Her and my mom together were a sight.  One day when Shirley and I were in Chicago we went to pick them up in the suburbs for a day in the city.  Oh the short film I could have made of them that day – bantering, laughing, forgetting where they put their car, my Aunt taking great pleasure in the nice little French bistro we took them to.  She was a character, larger than life, larger probably than the small camera frame I would have tried to wrap around her.

Through much of my early life, Lynn was an enigma.  She had a different last name than anyone else in my family.  I’d ask why and there were whispers of an ill-fated marriage.  It was only in the last few years, when I read some of Lynn’s evocative and sometimes aching writings that I found out about the abusive husband and the day that her beloved father, my grandfather, stood in the doorway and demanded the man to go away and to never return.

There were other mysteries.  I was shocked to learn when I began work on ABOUT A SON that she had once lived in Seattle.  If anyone was capable of surprise, it was Lynn.  And those phone calls between us were more compelling and funny and thought-provoking than my 13-year old self could have ever imagined. 

The stroke ended much of this.  It became more difficult to communicate by phone.  Her freedom to live as she chose – afternoons in the city, luncheons with friends, theater – ended the day she fell in her shower.  She remained whip smart, but the depression of losing so much of what defined her (at least to herself) began to take over.

Writing this makes me remember again how much I mourned the loss of those phone calls.  I guess in some ways I came to grips with losing part of her in the year after her accident.  Also, I admit that it was harder for me to hear that crackling woman struggle to keep her thoughts together or convey them in the way she wanted.  And the more I traveled, which was often in these past two years, the longer the stretches between conversations on the phone.  She’d say to my mom that she hadn’t heard from me for a while.  Regrets, regrets…

Talking or writing about what happens after death feels like a bridge too far for a blog that often ruminates on film festivals and box office data and Oscar chances.  But since these were all things that Aunt Lynn loved to talk about – hell, the true genesis of this blog was probably in the movie reviews that I typed up for her when I was ten – I’ll beg your indulgence. 

Here’s to hoping Lynn can stop by every once and awhile, I’d like to feel that spirit of hers.

And if it’s not asking too much and she’s able to drop or look into New York in January, I’d love for her to check out Cinema Eye, if only to see her nephew, co-hosting an awards show, wearing a suit. 

She might even think that I’d matured.

Here's to you, Lynn.

Now, It's Just Peter and Paul. Mary Travers, 1936-2009

I'm a sucker for boy-girl harmonies, so you'll pardon me if I say that in a summer and early fall filled with the passings of iconic figures from my childhood and adolescence (including Altman regular Henry Gibson earlier today), there's a certain sadness felt round these parts at the loss of Mary Travers of Peter, Paul and Mary.  Travers died today of leukemia at the age of 72.

While they will forever be connected to their classic versions of songs such as Puff (The Magic Dragon), Lemon Tree, If I Had a Hammer (The Hammer Song) and the satirical I Dig Rock and Roll Music, my favorite was always their take on Hedy West's 500 Miles.  The video below captures Travers at her most heartbreaking.

The Monday Brief: A Big SEPTEMBER Expansion, the Underground Oscar Docs & Remembering Christian Poveda

It's Day 5 of the Toronto Film Festival and while a new crop of documentaries are being unveiled this weekend, three that debuted at this year's Sundance fest are making box office waves in the US...

RJ Cutler's THE SEPTEMBER ISSUE went wide this weekend - really wide - and, for a change, the expansion was a huge success.  After a two-week NY run that sported one of the best debuts of the year, the Vogue Magazine doc expanded to more than 100 theaters and still managed to average $6,577 per.  That pushes SEPTEMBER ISSUE past $1.25M, making the Roadside Attractions release the 8th nonfiction of 2009 surpass the magical million dollar mark.  With both Michael Moore's latest as well as Sony's Michael Jackson doc coming this fall, the year should have a minimum of 9 films clearing that hurdle - at least one more than last year.

The success of SEPTEMBER means it will likely become - by next weekend if not sooner - the highest grossing film yet for A&E IndieFilms.  Currently, MURDERBALL - ironically considered by some to be a disappointment at the time - holds that honor, with just over $1.5 million in box office receipts.  It's also a bit of a balm for Roadside Attractions, which had high hopes for its other big Sundance acquisition, THE COVE - only to find disappointing audience response.

In more limited release, two other Sundance 2009 docs did well:  Joe Berlinger's CRUDE had a terrific exclusive engagement at NYC's IFC Center, making more than $16K on that single screen this weekend.  Laura Gabbert's NO IMPACT MAN averaged nearly $9K on two screens in NY and LA, making that film the strongest debut yet for an Oscilloscope Labs release.