November 17, 2006
A SLIFF Surprise
I've seen dozens of films at the St. Louis International Film Festival and literally hundreds at the Moore Auditorium, home of the Webster University Film Series. But last night, I witnessed two things I never thought I'd see: a SLIFF film so off-the-charts bad that it somehow became compelling; and the actual stoppage of a film at the Moore, which happened not once, but twice.
Let's recap, with a description of "Boardwalk" from the SLIFF site: "This rarely seen late-1970s masterpiece by director Stephen Venora ('The Lords of Flatbush') has been languishing in rights limbo for nearly 30 years. This vintage mood piece - which stars Lee Strasberg, Ruth Gordon, and Janet Leigh - generates a very real nostalgia for what Coney Island once was and takes a frightening look at a once-thriving neighborhood that suffers from both physical and moral decay."
Arriving at the theatre, a sign indicated that the price was dropped to $5 because of the poor quality of the print. Inside a disconsolate projectionist, Dick Bauer, grumbled that "it looks like a VHS tape." He was being kind, in that viewing the work was watching the sun, the brightness overwhelming even interior scenes. And what I assumed to be a video disc, rather than a film reel, was cranky from start to finish, with numerous glitches and, yes, two moments when it ground to a halt. With a projectionist with 30-years in the booth working the machines, that's almost impossible. Was the disc sent via overland coach? Was it dropped into rivers or seas? Did Bauer wish to smash it with his own hands? (I believe "yes," on all.)
Some of the thin audience took that description of "impossibly bad" to heart, as a few left at the 20-minute mark. Once the first couple left, some more took the hint and walked out. Amazingly, they were the only ones that did leave, as the rest of sat, stared and wondered if this film could possibly get worse as it went along. The answer: yes. It could. And not just because of the unintended pauses in play.
A combination of aborted John Sayles-styled urban drama and campy fun ala "The Warriors," this "masterpiece" followed the changing fortunes of a Coney Island neighborhood, once Jewish, now multi-ethnic. The central family - headed by Strasberg and Gordon - became targeted by a pan-ethnic gang of thugs, lead by a sadistic, snarling black leader. In between the barely-interlocking storylines are countless odd moments, like the ancient leads enjoying "Playboy" in bed, an almost comedic desecration of a Synagogue by the gang and several "we're all in it together" conversations about race and class between multiple characters. Oh, and a woman gets beaten in a stairwell, again, it seems, for laughs. And I'm forgetting the birth of a pop band!
If nothing seems to stick together in that graph, it's because nothing made sense in the film. But... for those who stuck out the duration of this long-forgotten, cinematic wretch, it really was worth it. Stunned, I walked up the long Moore center aisle to exclaim to friends: "We will now always have something to talk about." After all, it's not every day you witness one of the worst three films you've ever taken in.
I know the brains behind the SLIFF and know that they're guys with great senese of humor. I never thought, they, had this kind of prankishness in their systems. Never.