by Meredith Brody

I look forward to the San Francisco Silent Film Festival all year long.  It’s an intense event, but encompassable: this year’s iteration crams 19 events into a long weekend—with one movie on Thursday night, May 29, and the rest spread thickly across Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. The Festival’s brief—to show silent movies, both well-known and obscure, with live musical accompaniment—suits me right down to the ground.  But I also cherish the opportunity to descend into a sort of childish gourmandise, built up over the years in a combination of experimentation and ritual.  Continue reading →