The New Yorker Theater And Other Scenes From A Life At The Movies

"In this irresistible memoir, Toby Talbot, co-owner and proud "matron" of the New Yorker Theater, reveals the story behind Manhattan's wild and wonderful affair with art-house film. With her husband Dan, Talbot showcased a range of eclectic films, introducing French New Wave and New German cinema, along with other groundbreaking genres and styles. As Vietnam protests and the struggle for civil rights raged outside, the Talbots also took the lead in distributing political films, such as Bernard Bertolucci's Before the Revolution, and documentaries, such as Shoah and Point of Order.".

New York's repertory movie houses specialized in presenting films ignored by mainstream and art house audiences. Curating vintage and undistributed movies from various countries, they educated the public about the art of film at a time when the cinema had begun to be respected as an art form. Operating on shoestring budgets in funky settings, each repertory house had its own personality, reflecting the preferences of the (often eccentric) proprietor. While a few theaters existed in other cities, New York offered the greatest number and variety. Focusing on the active years from 1960 through 1994, this book documents the repertory movement in the context of economics and film culture.

This book focuses on the re-invigoration of Charlie Chaplin’s Little Tramp persona in America from the point at which Chaplin reached the acme of his disfavor in the States, promoted by the media, through his departure from America forever in 1952, and ending with his death in Switzerland in 1977. By considering factions of America as diverse as 8mm film collectors, Beat poets and writers and readers of Chaplin biographies, this cultural study determines conclusively that Chaplin’s Little Tramp never died, but in fact experienced a resurgence, which began slowly even before 1950 and was wholly in effect by 1965 and then confirmed by 1972, the year in which Chaplin returned to the United States for the final time, to receive accolades in both New York and Los Angeles, where he received an Oscar for a lifetime of achievement in film.

Film and television create worlds, but they are also of a world, a world that is made up of stuff, to which humans attach meaning. Think of the last time you watched a movie: the chair you sat in, the snacks you ate, the people around you, maybe the beer or joint you consumed to help you unwind—all this stuff shaped your experience of media and its influence on you. The material culture around film and television changes how we make sense of their content, not to mention the very concepts of the mediums. Focusing on material cultures of film and television reception, The Stuff of Spectatorship argues that the things we share space with and consume as we consume television and film influence the meaning we gather from them. This book examines the roles that six different material cultures have played in film and television culture since the 1970s—including video marketing, branded merchandise, drugs and alcohol, and even gun violence—and shows how objects considered peripheral to film and television culture are in fact central to its past and future.

“A smart and eminently readable examination of the life and career of one of the twentieth century’s most influential movie critics.”—Los Angeles Times “Engrossing and thoroughly researched.”—Entertainment Weekly • A New York Times Book Review Notable Book of 2011 • The first major biography of the most influential, powerful, and controversial film critic of the twentieth century Pauline Kael was, in the words of Entertainment Weekly's movie reviewer Owen Gleiberman, "the Elvis or Beatles of film criticism." During her tenure at The New Yorker from 1968 to 1991, she was the most widely read and, often enough, the most provocative critic in America. In this first full-length biography of the legend who changed the face of film criticism, acclaimed author Brian Kellow (author of Can I Go Now?: The Life of Sue Mengers, Hollywood's First Superagent) gives readers a richly detailed view of Kael's remarkable life—from her youth in rural California to her early struggles to establish her writing career to her peak years at The New Yorker.

“All that I do is go out and look at films and choose the ones I want to play—films that stimulate, and give some insight into our lives. I hope that people will come, but if they don’t, that’s okay too.” Daniel Talbot changed the way the Upper West Side—and art-house audiences around the world—went to the movies. In Love with Movies is his memoir of a rich life as the impresario of the legendary Manhattan theaters he owned and operated and as a highly influential film distributor. Talbot and his wife, Toby, opened the New Yorker Theater in 1960, cultivating a loyal audience of film buffs and cinephiles. He went on to run several theaters including Lincoln Plaza Cinemas as well as the distribution company New Yorker Films, shaping the sensibilities of generations of moviegoers. The Talbots introduced American audiences to cutting-edge foreign and independent filmmaking, including the French New Wave and New German Cinema. In this lively, personal history of a bygone age of film exhibition, Talbot relates how he discovered and selected films including future classics such as Before the Revolution, Shoah, My Dinner with Andre, and The Marriage of Maria Braun. He reminisces about leading world directors such as Sembène, Godard, Fassbinder, Wenders, Varda, and Kiarostami as well as industry colleagues with whom he made deals on a slip of paper or a handshake. In Love with Movies is an intimate portrait of a tastemaker who was willing to take risks. It not only lays out the nuts and bolts of running a theater but also tells the story of a young cinephile who turned his passion into a vibrant cultural community.

The Fall of a Great American City is the story of what is happening today in New York City and in many other cities across America. It is about how the crisis of affluence is now driving out everything we love most about cities: small shops, decent restaurants, public space, street life, affordable apartments, responsive government, beauty, idiosyncrasy, each other. This is the story of how we came to lose so much—how the places we love most were turned over to land bankers, billionaires, the worst people in the world, and criminal landlords—and how we can - and must - begin to take them back. Co-published with Harper's Magazine, where an earlier version of this essay was originally published in 2018. The landlords are killing the town. As New York City approaches the third decade of the twenty-first century, it is in imminent danger of becoming something it has never been before: unremarkable. By unremarkable I don’t just mean periodic, slump-in-the-art-world, all-the-bands-suck, cinema-is-dead boring. I mean flatlining. No longer a significant cultural entity but a blank white screen of mere existence. I mean The-World’s-Largest-Gated-Community-with-a-few-cupcake-shops. For the first-time in our history, creative-young-people-will-no-longer want-to-come-here boring. Even, New-York-is-over boring. Or worse, New York is like everywhere else. Unremarkable. This is not some new phenomenon, but a cancer that’s been metastasizing on the city for decades now. Even worse, it’s not something that anyone wants, except the landlords, and not even all of them. What’s happening to New York now—what’s already happened to most of Manhattan, its core, and what is happening in every American city of means, Boston, Washington, San Francisco, Seattle, you name it—is something that almost nobody wants, but everybody gets. As such, the current urban crisis exemplifies our wider crisis: an America where we believe that we no longer have any ability to control the systems we live under.

In this first collection of film writing from Evergreen Review, the legendary publication's important contributions to film culture are available in a single volume. Featuring such legendary writers as Nat Hentoff, Norman Mailer, Parker Tyler, and Amos Vogel, the book presents writing on the films of Jean-Luc Godard, Pier Paolo Pasolini, Ousmane Sembene, Andy Warhol, and others and offers incisive essays and interviews from the late 1950s to early 1970s. Articles explore politics, revolution, and the cinema; underground and experimental film, pornography, and censorship; and the rise of independent film against the dominance of Hollywood. A new introductory essay by Ed Halter reveals the important role Evergreen Review and its publisher, Grove Press, played in advancing cinema during this period through innovations in production, distribution, and exhibition. Editor Ed Halter began working on this book in 2001 with Barney Rosset, using his personal files and interviews with him as initial research.