One Night in Hollywood

It's interesting walking alone down Hollywood Blvd. on a Sunday night.

Parking much farther down the neon-lit street from my destination than I thought, I was forced to walk 5 blocks past the multiple smoke shops, sex toy boutiques, and the quaint "Oz of Hollywood Tattoo" on the way to the Egyptian theatre. The frequent wet spots on the uneven pavement sidewalk hinted at packed bars with long lines to the bathroom and a largely male crowd. I walked quickly and resisted responding to the comments about blondes and my killer high-tops.

I'm just a nerd who wanted to watch some old movies.

Finally reaching the theatre, I entered another type of technicolor world: Kodachrome Experimental Cinema. Filmforum's 35th Anniversary was held in a small screening room packed with other film enthusiasts (geeks) eager to spend the next two hours oohing and ahhing over 16mm projections of rare Kodachrome prints. In attendance was legendary experimental filmmaker Michael Kuchar, who in his opening conversation mentioned his film relationships with the likes of Andy Warhol, Jack Smith, Ken Jacobs, and Kenneth Anger. It was wonderful to hear someone speak so passionately about the urge to create art using film. Having heard his twin brother George speak in Boston about his own film energies, I was comforted again by Michael's insistence on the play involved with filmmaking, the hobbyist nature of the experimental filmmaker, and the necessity to do what you can with what you got.

Then again, after watching Kuchar's The Secret of Wendel Samson (1962), I fought the paranoia of failing to reach that level of vision in my own work.
The last film of the night, Kuchar's 33.5 minute exploration of fear, isolation, and vacillating sexuality, created that wonderful viewing "hum," or warmth of a raptured audience. Kuchar's cinematography holds a focus so intense that coupled with the thick, full color of Kodachrome, there's a tension that perpendicularly compliments the comic nature of the characters and their strange, yet oddly natural behavior.

Also included in the Kodachrome lineup were the films Pastoral d'Ete (1958) by Will Hindle, 3rd Ave El (1955) By Carson Davidson, Creation (1979) by Stan Brakhage, Secret Garden (1988) by Phil Solomon, and Path of Cessation (1974) by Robert Fulton.

My favorite film experience of all time is Phil Solomon's Remains to be Seen (1989-94) and screening his Secret Garden didn't disappoint. The vibrancy of Kodachrome has an interesting relationship to an artist's choice of either sound or silence. The density of Solomon's images, and their distinct surface manipulation played games with his choice of silence. The appropriation of footage from The Wizard of Oz caused me to think briefly back on that tattoo parlor on Hollywood, but my focus was almost instantly brought back by the color world of Dorothy and her fears of being far from home; fears that Solomon disguised behind layers of texture and physically transformed celluloid.

The connecting element between all the films was not just the Kodachrome stock, but the heightened sense of isolation. From singular figures: the lonely seals adrift on the ice in Brakhage's Creation, the gong soloist in the beginning Path of Cessation; to the sweeping landscapes of Pastoral d'Ete and the contrasting 3rd Ave El, the solitary relationship of the camera to its subject was only heightened with the saturation of color.

After leaving the screening room, a celebratory reception followed, with the obligatory red wines, alternative beers, and some, pardon my terminology, dank-ass cake. I think I almost crushed Kuchar's hand when I shook it, but he didn't seem to notice and was happy to talk about his work and the cake. I was introduced to him by Ray "3D" Zone who has worked in stereoscopic film for over 30 years and Kuchar is a big fan of his 3D comics. Gotta love the crowd that comes out for experimental film. Ah, but my social awkwardness prevailed, and after some good conversation, largely about the cheese platter, I slipped out onto the boulevard that seemed somehow safer than before.

I walked back down Hollywood with a renewed sense of purpose in my own films, a pocket-full of funky business cards, and an insane sugar-high. Can't wait to do it again.






For information on Filmforum activities and screenings check out their website at lafilmforum.org
(screen shots taken from the Filmforum website)