Former Philippine First Lady Imelda Marcos would love it if you just think of her as the eccentric beauty with three thousand pairs of shoes. She knows, as does any great magician, that if you focus on the shiny thing in front of you, you probably won’t pay attention to the sleight of hand that’s really going on—in the 86 year-old Marcos’ case, the brilliantly Machiavellian manipulation of her country’s political process that is quietly placing the Marcos family back in power.
Some of the best documentaries have had to shift direction after filming began, based on changed circumstances that must be included. Life happens, and able filmmakers pivot, and re-think the narrative to match a new—and often more compelling–reality.
My first reaction is “No way I’m going to review a film with the name “R——.“ I’ve spent too long telling relatives in the nation’s capital how their team’s name evokes bloody skins of the First People of our continent hunted for bounty. Even though this film acknowledges the R-word as a slur, even though today’s reviewers think it progressive for its time, I’m reluctant. Our history is one white person’s version of Indians after another—with Hollywood in the lead. I don’t want to join the thread.
There is no doubt that the story of octogenarian Italian photojournalist Letizia Battaglia is an interesting one. A talented artist/activist/elected official/ iconoclast who has experienced spousal abuse, sexual discrimination, and many long affairs with much younger men, she has for decades documented the atrocities of the Mafia in her home town of Palermo, Sicily.
The first public performance of San Francisco’s renowned Gay Men’s Chorus took place in 1978 at an impromptu memorial at City Hall for pioneer gay rights advocate and city supervisor Harvey Milk and mayor George Moscone, who had been assassinated earlier that same day. It’s worth noting that they performed a religious song: “Thou, Lord, Hast Been our Refuge.” The tens of thousands of mourners had marched to City Hall from Castro Street.
Since that time, the world’s first gay chorus has performed all over the world.
Film posters of Mon Oncle by Jacques Tati and of course Citizen Kane by Orson Welles
Have you ever dreamt of opening a café or bar that would be the medley of everything you love? Have you ever worried that San Francisco is losing its creative venues because high rents demand investors who demand tried-and-true (i.e. boring) business formulas so that they can be assured of a return?