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Topic: CINEMA TALK by John Ewing with author permission
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John A Galinac
Film Handler
Posts: 2
From: Eastlake OH
Registered: Mar 2005
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posted 04-20-2005 10:45 AM
CINEMA TALK by John Ewing of the Cleveland Cinematheque and Cleveland Museum of Art
Are film projectionists obsolete? That's one of the questions that's been bandied about in the wake of Cleveland Cinemas' decision last year to remove union projectionists from its seven northeast Ohio theatres, replacing them with house managers who operate projection equipment as part of their duties. The controversy flared again in March when it became known that union operators, for the first time in 29 years, would not project the films for the Cleveland International Film Festival, which rents screens at Cleveland Cinemas' Tower City Cinemas.
I am not going to take sides on the union/non-union debate because I straddle both worlds. For almost 19 years I have employed non-union projectionists at the Cinematheque and union projectionists at my other venue, The Cleveland Museum of Art. There are top-notch operators in both camps.
But the thing that unites my two programs is that, at each location, I have a dedicated projectionist. This means that there is a person in the booth whose sole responsibility is the preparation and projection of movies. At most multiplexes, theatre managers and supervisors who have other, non-booth responsibilities thread up and start the movies. Automation allows one person to operate multiple projectors on multiple screens. Multiplex movies are projected from platters, so the entire film (which arrives generally on five or six 2000-foot, 20-minute reels) is spooled into one huge, heavy, horizontal roll on a large metal plate and then run, in a continuous loop, through the projector. At the Cinematheque and the art museum, movies are projected the old-fashioned way – from the individual 2000-foot reels, one at a time, on two projectors. The operator must make a manual changeover (switch from one machine to the other) every 20 minutes or so.
Clearly, non-automated booths like mine require a dedicated projectionist whereas an automated booth can get by without one. But even in an automated booth, is it really advisable not to have a dedicated projectionist? I don't think so. For decades dedicated projectionists in automated booths were the norm, and some theatre chains, like Cinemark and Atlas, still use them. When automation and "twinning" of theatres took hold in the late 60s and early 70s, one of the major benefits to the theatre owner was that one projectionist could oversee all of his screens; one operator per screen was no longer necessary. Now, 30 years later, even that one operator is seen as dispensable – as long as you can train somebody, anybody, to build up and thread a film and push a few buttons.
But is a film projectionist nothing but a button pusher? Only if you allow him (or her) to be. A good projectionist does more than keep the film running, audible, and focused. He frames the image properly from top to bottom (the film frame contains more image than you see on the screen), which requires an eye for composition. He focuses the projector lamps (as opposed to the picture) so that the whole screen is evenly illuminated, with no hot spots or dark corners. He cleans, oils, and maintains equipment, and is knowledgeable enough to rectify minor mechanical problems that might arise during a show. He builds up and breaks down movies on platters so that they are not scratched or otherwise damaged (horizontal "platter scratches" on mishandled movies are common in older prints), and makes sure that the proper head and tail leaders, cut off for projection, are re-affixed to the right reels. This build-up and breakdown of prints is so important that some multiplexes (like the Regal Severance, which features consistently superb projection) hire union projectionists to prepare and disassemble all their shows. In essence, these veteran operators get everything in order for the non-union button pushers who will "project" the movies during the week.
I think one reason why a dedicated projectionist is now seen as unnecessary is that movie theatre operators are less invested in the movies they show than they used to be. With film distributors claiming the lion's share of film rental fees, it's concession sales that keep movie theatres in business. Thus the movie proper becomes almost a necessary evil in the theatre's operation. If a film gets damaged during projection, it's no big deal. The multi-million-dollar, multinational studio will just replace it or, more likely, junk it – given the relatively short screen life of most first-run films and the abundance of prints. But if you show rare, one- or two-of-a-kind film prints like the Cinematheque, art museum, and film festival often do, then an experienced, careful, responsible, dedicated projectionist is indispensable.
Then again, I think a dedicated projectionist is indispensable for all prints. Running 35mm film through a complex set of metal sprockets and rollers that can tear it up is much more complicated than inserting a tape or DVD into a player and hitting "play" (though many think that's how movies are projected today). And xenon projection lamps, which illuminate film screens, can blind, burn, and explode. Movie theatre operators obsessed with the "bottom line" need to adjust their thinking. The real bottom line is that they present motion pictures. Movies are what their businesses are built upon, and why people come to their establishments and pay good money for the privilege of spending even more money at their concession stands. And if the film is foremost (as it is), then the presentation of the film, the care of the print, and the maintenance of the equipment are essential. A dedicated projectionist charged solely with those top priorities seems a reasonable, necessary expense.
When filmmaker Peter Greenaway visited the Cinematheque in 1997, I took him up to the booth to meet my operators. "The projectionist is my final collaborator," he said to them, knowing full well that a bad presentation can ruin even the best movie – and many people's hard work. In saying this, Greenaway let my operators know that their profession is one that he respects, and one that is essential for maintaining cinema's status as an art form. One wishes that more theatre owners would adopt his attitude.
Speaking of dedicated projectionists, my operators at the Cinematheque are dedicated in both senses of the term. Not only do they spend all their time in the booth when they work, they have worked at the Cinematheque for many years. Tom Sedlak and Les Vince were the Cinematheque's original projectionists in 1986; 19 years later, they're still at it. Mike Glazer, whom we hired in 2000, came to us after a lifetime of collecting movies and showing them at his house. And our ace alternate Austin Bates, our first-ever student projectionist, came to the Institute three years ago, having run movies in her home town of Kansas City. She still projects in K.C. during the non-school year.
[ 04-08-2006, 01:11 PM: Message edited by: Adam Martin ]
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Jeffry L. Johnson
Jedi Master Film Handler
Posts: 809
From: Cleveland, Ohio, USA
Registered: Apr 2000
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posted 04-07-2006 07:31 PM
Making Fun Is Work quote:
Making fun is work
Friday, April 07, 2006
Melissa Hebert
Plain Dealer Reporter
They're out there . . . behind the curtain, in the kitchen, in the offices, on the phone.
They help make your dinner, show you movies, plan those swell parties, put on great shows and keep you entertained during timeouts.
They work while you play.
They're the Fun Makers. Without them, going out would be dull. If they do their job well, they go unnoticed. Today, a few of them get some time in the spotlight.
[snip]
Page 6 of 6
Laszlo Vince
and Tom Sedlak
Projectionists at Cleveland Institute of Art Cinematheque, 11141 East Blvd., Cleveland.
In the almost 20 years Sedlak and Vince have worked at the institute of art's movie theater, Sedlak estimated they've each done about 4,000 movies. That's four movies a week, averaging about 50 weeks a year for 20 years.
Sedlak and Vince are audio- visual diehards. Vince, 52, is director of long-distance learning and audio-visual projects at the Cleveland Museum of Art. Sedlak, 53, grew up making short movies on 8 mm film, and was in the audio-visual club at Charles F. Brush High School in Lyndhurst. By day, he's a self-employed painter.
They have been with the Cinematheque since it began in August 1986. They helped install the screen. They run the vintage projectors -- quite different than the newer ones in commercial theaters, where the movie comes on a single platterlike reel.
Movies come on multiple reels, so timing the switch from one projector to the other must be precise. No zoning out allowed on this job, especially as there's only one projectionist at a time.
One Russian film, they recalled, came in 16 small cans with only about six minutes of film per reel. Sedlak and Vince had to work together that night, each scrambling to replace reels on their projector.
"Projectionists are the last link in making sure you see the movie the way it should be shown," Vince said. They make sure the audio and focus are right. Also, with different screen ratios in different countries, they also ensure the movie fits the screen properly.
While they can't watch movies while the audience does -- they must pay attention to the equipment and there's no audio in the projection room -- they still enjoy what they do.
"It's a chance to see films from all over the world," Vince said. "If there was no Cinematheque, most of these films wouldn't have been shown here."
It's work, but it's work that allows them to indulge their love of movies.
"Movies are magic," Sedlak said.
Note that the "vintage projectors" are Kinoton FP 23 C.
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Jeffry L. Johnson
Jedi Master Film Handler
Posts: 809
From: Cleveland, Ohio, USA
Registered: Apr 2000
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posted 08-01-2006 03:13 PM
Giving Clevelanders films the big movie houses shun
quote:
MOVIES
Giving Clevelanders films the big movie houses shun
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Clint O'Connor
Plain Dealer Film Critic
DVDs, Netflix, multiple movie channels and plasma TVs the size of Chryslers continue to threaten conventional movie theaters. New digital technologies are revolutionizing filmmaking and soon could radically alter the way films are exhibited and distributed.
One Cleveland theater is impervious to the sea change: the Cleveland Institute of Art Cinematheque.
It offers a regular rush of foreign, ob scure, dark, surreal, sex-obsessed, gender- bending films by direc tors with hard-to-pro nounce names and long-suffering coun tries that were part of a larger, more oppres sive country or bloc.
It's the only Cleve land theater that would dare screen "Sa tantango," Bela Tarr's exploration of poor vil lagers who follow a false messiah. "Satan tango" runs seven hours. In Hungarian.
"It's so truly unique," said Ross Cozens of Strongsville.
He catches about 100 Cinematheque movies a year and still hasn't gotten over seeing "Satantango" in 1996. "They don't show the kind of movies you'll find on DVD or cable. The Cinematheque is for people who are adventurous about their filmgoing."
As with many long-lasting Cleveland institutions, the Cinematheque, which celebrates its 20th anniversary this weekend, exists because of the commitment of one highly dedicated individual: John Ewing.
To say Ewing is into film would be engaging in outrageous understatement.
Pick any movie title, and he can name the director, where it was made and when it was released. He can also describe different scenes in great detail, the lighting and the camera angles. Then Ewing will provide extensive background on the director, his or her other provocative films and when he or she visited the Cinematheque. He can also handicap the quality of the 35 mm prints available, who has them and how to get one.
"I've never seen anybody so dedicated to film who isn't actually making films," said David Deming, president and CEO of the Cleveland Institute of Art. "We're very proud of all the great work John's done."
Ewing has served up series on Czech modernism, Polish animation, Norwegian women and Italian comedies. He has programmed metaphysical epics, psycho-thrillers, Japanimation weekends, banned movies and band movies.
"It's much more than a job for him," said Tim Harry, the Cinematheque's assistant director. "John is driven and almost possessed to show the films he thinks should be shown. Brilliant is an overused word, but John is a brilliant programmer. People respect him so much more outside of Cleveland. There's great respect for him in the industry."
Better to see a bad film
by a great director
To sit down and chat with John Ewing is to have a mini film seminar.
He prefers far-flung foreign films, but he's not a snob. His favorite movie is "Shane," the Alan Ladd Western, and he admits to getting major guffaws from Jim Carrey and Jeff Daniels in "Dumb and Dumber." But he doesn't get to the multiplex much these days, in part because so many of the new American releases are just the same movies being made over and over.
"I'd rather see a quote-unquote bad film by a great director than 90 percent of the movies that are playing commercially," Ewing said.
He is very much an "auteurist," worshipping at the altar of directors, and has programmed major retrospectives on most of cinema's heavy hitters: Ingmar Bergman, Alfred Hitchcock, Stanley Kubrick, Howard Hawks, Akira Kurosawa, Orson Welles, Yasujiro Ozu and Federico Fellini, among many others.
Ewing, 55, grew up in Canton and went to Denison University in Granville, where he double-majored in English and theater/film. He wrote about movies for the Denisonian and brought films like "Singin' in the Rain" and "Ride the High Country" to the campus.
"Part of it was feeding my obsession," he said. "There was no video or DVD. All you could do was wait for these movies to turn up on television."
He wanted to be a movie critic.
His first job out of college in 1973, as a district circulation manager for the Geauga Times Leader, came with the stipulation that he could write movie reviews for the paper. He later took his criticism to Northern Ohio Live magazine and other publications but at some point decided he would rather build things up than tear them down.
"It was easier to write a negative review than a positive one," he said. "I thought programming films sounded like a more positive career."
The guy who knows
what film to see
Ewing is sitting in his office at the Cleveland Institute of Art on East Boulevard in University Circle. Well, technically he's sitting just outside his office. There is nowhere to sit in the cluttered chaos of Cinematheque Central. Movie posters, postcards and paraphernalia are stored, stacked and stashed; a mess of papers crowds his desk and his chair.
If this were a movie it would be a metaphor, a glimpse inside Ewing's soul or his cerebral attic: old films, foreign films, forgotten films fighting for space and attention.
Ewing, who had run film programs and series in Canton, Cleveland Heights and Cleveland, launched the Cinematheque as a sporadic floating art house at Case Western Reserve University in 1985.
A year later, with encouragement from film writer Ron Holloway, money from the Gund Foundation and assistance from Molly Beck, Ewing opened officially at the art institute's Aitken Auditorium on Aug. 8, 1986. The first film was Mrinal Sen's "Interview," an attempt to liberate movies from "the confines of narrative structure and logic." In short, quintessential Cinematheque.
"John was the guy to call to find out what was the really hot film to see, what was cutting edge," said Beck, who helped run Case's film society before working for Ewing for 12 years. "I told him, Hire me, and I'll work for free for six months.' "
He did. And she did.
The staff tends to stick around. Two of Ewing's projectionists, Tom Sedlak and Laszlo "Les" Vince have been there since day one. Harry, who started as a part-time ticket-taker, has 15 years in.
David and Fran Namkoong of Shaker Heights are hard-core Cinemathequers. Originally from New York, they were thrilled to find a Cleveland venue with such a wide array of foreign films, especially those from China, Japan, Korea and Mongolia.
"John finds such unusual, experimental films," said David. "And he's such an enthusiast. Even after all these years."
Ewing devours the trades and scans the world cinema scene to plan his Cleveland screenings months in advance. He is often beholden to a director's reputation or word of mouth, choosing to watch many of the films for the first time with the audience at the Cinematheque. That also allows him to avoid video screeners.
For the record, Ewing detests digital video and the coming of digital projection. It's not enough for audiences to see the meaning and wonder of the movies he shows; Ewing wants them to appreciate the actual celluloid clattering through the projector.
"I'm very in awe of film as a physical object," he said. "It has such a luster. There's no digital video that looks as good. Film is unparalleled in visual splendor. People don't have to believe me. I just want them to trust their eyes."
John Ewing's Top 10 Cinematheque picks
quote:
John Ewing's Top 10 Cinematheque picks
Sunday, July 30, 2006
The Cleveland Institute of Art Cinematheque has featured several retrospectives of movie masters but has also spotlighted a number of up-and-coming directors before they hit it big in America, such as Peter Jackson, John Woo and Jane Campion.
Three of the greatest nights in the past 20 years, according to programmer John Ewing, were presentations by directors Jim Jarmusch and Peter Greenaway and special effects master Ray Harryhausen.
As of this weekend, the Cinematheque will have shown 5,169 feature films. Here is Ewing's top 10 list of the best films to premiere in Cleveland at the Cinematheque (listed alphabetically, with the original year of release).
"Daughters of the Dust," directed by Julie Dash (USA, 1991).
"Dead Alive," directed by Peter Jackson (Australia, 1992).
"The Decalogue," directed by Krzysztof Kieslowski (Poland, 1989).
"Heimat," directed Edgar Reitz (Germany, 1984).
"The Hole," directed by Tsai Ming-liang (Taiwan, 1998).
"Laputa: Castle in the Sky," directed by Hayao Miyazaki (Japan, 1986).
"Miracle in Rome," directed by Lisandro Duque Naranjo (Colombia, 1988).
"Satantango," directed by Bela Tarr (Hungary, 1994).
"Where Is the Friend's Home?" directed by Abbas Kiarostami (Iran, 1987).
"The Wrong Trousers," directed by Nick Park (Britain, 1993).
"Satantango," clocking in at seven hours, is a mere coming attraction compared with "The Decalogue" (10 hours) and "Heimat" (15 hours plus). But if you're game, start popping your popcorn now. "Satantango" returns to the Cinematheque in October.
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