Nitrate Stock Returns to the 53rd Annual New York Film Fest! Plus, Pick of the Day!

Stockahz! That time of year has rolled about once more! The annual celebration of film both old and new, DCP and celluloid, foreign and domestic, the slate that sets the table for Oscar season, arguably the world's most-beloved gathering of cinema and the people who craft it second only to Cannes. And that's only because the wine's not as swell.

Ladies and Gents, the 53rd annual Nw York Film Festival has dawned once more, beginning last Saturday with a special premiere screening of Robert Zemeckis' THE WALK. However, as I'm sure all of you reading this already know, my main interest is in the Revivals section, the part of the slate dealing with restorations of classic cinema, in many cases attended by some of the most renowned figures from the world of film. And once more, for a second special year running, yours truly will be occupying a seat at some of the best of these screenings. Announced guest speakers include Martin Scorsese, Hou Hsiao-hsein and Marcel Ophüls. Titles include John Ford's THE LONG VOYAGE HOME, Ousmane Sembene's BLACK GIRL, and Akira Kurosawa's final masterpiece; 1985's RAN. I'm sure some special guests will make a surprise appearance, and the classics on display will and do rep the great legacy of the form. However, in all honesty, tonight I'm attending a screening of a film helmed by a director I hold in low esteem, although I remember liking the effort in question. But I've been burned by memory before, in particular with this filmmaker; a few years back I extolled the virtues of his first foray into Hitchcockian quagmire, 1973's SISTERS. Upon said extollation, and I don't care if that's not a word, I urged my friends to kick back as I streamed it on Netflix. The sheer and utter horror over my degree of mistake left my jaw plunging through the floor. I felt then I couldn't justify even those titles I believed to be the few worthwhile on his CV, my 8-year old self was grossly mistaken in the eyes of my, well, you guess how old-self.

So tonight I'm going to test whether one of the other few films I remember giving even a weak damn about holds up. He is pretentious, he is obvious, and he never met a brilliant auteur he didn't want to, or eventually, blatantly rip off. That said, lemme say a few positives about the guy; he directed CARRIE, which is effective though dated, and increasingly seems like no mean feat as no one else appears capable of telling the same tale with any success. He helped Robert De Niro get his start in the films GREETINGS and HI MOM! Exclamation point his. He reunited with De Niro in one of, if not his best, work-for-hires; 1987's THE UNTOUCHABLES, which shares mantle space with CARLITO'S WAY as his best non-auteur products. Finally, he concocted, stitched-together might be a more appropriate term, one of my favorite filmic foofaraws of all time; 1974's PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE, what I consider the living definition of the cult movie. As incredibly awful a filmmaker he's proven to be time and time again, he's survived, still a critical darling, usually until the critical community gets a look at his latest work. But I'm willing to give even the worst of the worst a chance, a second look, a championing of singular greatness. Except Zemeckis. What am I going on here, USED CARS?

Brian De Palma's BLOW OUT unspools its digital 1's and 0's as part of the Revivals section of the 53rd annual New York Film Festival at Lincoln Center. I will be reporting from the festival, on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram and Vine and whatever the hell new app gets invented between now and 9pm tonight, so stick with me! I'll be offering opinion, drinking champange with the glitterati, and naw hell I lied about that last part I'm just gonna be offering opinion. Plus keeping yaz informed of any cool shenanigans that pop up by surprise. Camera at the ready, audio and video recorders fully charged, I can't wait to dive once more into the breach, and once more I want to thank Austin Kennedy, publicist extraordinaire at the Film Scoiety, and Goerge Nichols of PMK-BNC for the press access. For a Cinegeek like myself, this is pure gold. Back later with my posts. Excelsior, Knuckleheads!

- Joe Walsh