MANON!
The Space at Irondale
85 South Oxford St. between Fulton St. & Lafayette Ave., Brooklyn
January 27 – February 15, $28.32-$116.75 www.heartbeatopera.org
“What will be surprising and exciting about this is how raw and some might even say nasty opera can be,” Natalie Walker says in a promotional video for Heartbeat Opera’s Manon!, running January 27 through February 15 at the Space at Irondale. The indie opera company is presenting a unique take on Jules Massenet’s 1884 opéra comique, based on the 1731 novel L’histoire du chevalier des Grieux et de Manon Lescaut by the Abbé Prévost. Set during the reign of King Louis XV, the narrative tells the story of a convent-bound woman who is caught between two men, the Chevalier Des Grieux and finance minister Guillot. Henri Meilhac and Philippe Gille’s original libretto has been adapted with a new book and English lyrics by Jacob Ashworth and Rory Pelsue, with Golden Age–style musical arrangements by conductor Dan Schlosberg; the show is directed by Obie winner Pelsue (The Last Bimbo of the Apocalypse,Circle Jerk) and choreographed by Sara Gettelfinger.
The cast features Emma Grimsley as Manon, Matt Dengler as the Chevalier, Glenn Seven Allen as Guillot, Jamari Darling as Lescaut, Justin Lee Miller as the Count Des Grieux, Kathryn McCreary as Pousette, and Walker as Javotte; the set is by Alexander Woodward, with costumes by David Mitsch, lighting by Yichen Zhou, and sound by Ryan Gamblin. The eight-piece orchestra consists of Pablo O’Connell on oboe and English horn, Atao Liu on bassoon, Nicolee Kuester on horn, Deanna Cirielli on harp, Julia Danitz on violin, Thapelo Masita on cello, Eleonore Oppenheim on bass, and Schlosberg on keyboards. There are still some pay-what-you-want preview tickets available starting at $10, but you need to act fast to grab them.
“No one’s ever done anything like this,” Dengler promises in the video.
[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]
On January 26, they are following that up with “We the People: An Assembly of New York Artists,” a town-hall-style gathering at St. Mark’s Church in-the-Bowery where the focus will be more local. The panel features Classical Theatre of Harlem producing artistic director Ty Jones, award-winning playwright and performer Lisa Kron (Fun Home,Well), the People’s Theatre executive artistic director and cofounder Mino Lora, former Creatives Rebuild New York executive director Sarah Calderon, New York Philharmonic vice president of education and community engagement Gary A. Padmore, and playwright and author Sara Farrington (CasablancaBox,A Trojan Woman). Farrington, who writes the indispensable Substack Theater Is Hard, will make her way through the audience with a microphone, giving members of the community the chance to speak their mind for sixty seconds (and maybe more); it is pointed out that “everyone who comes will already know that art is good, so be specific.”
The presentation will be recorded for online viewing, and a detailed report will be sent to Mayor Mamdani and Governor Hochul. Attendance is free with advance RSVP, although it is all dependent on the weather.
[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]
John Wilson, Maquette for Martin Luther King, Jr. (United States Capitol, Washington, DC, bronze, 1985 (collection of Julia Wilson / courtesy of Martha Richardson Fine Art, Boston / photo by twi-ny/mdr)
WITNESSING HUMANITY: THE ART OF JOHN WILSON
Met Fifth Avenue
Metropolitan Museum of Art
1000 Fifth Ave. at 82nd St.
Through February 8, $17-$30 www.metmuseum.org
“I wanted people to recognize him, but also I wanted to suggest the intangible energy and strength, this sense of dogged strength he had that allowed him to carry out these impossible campaigns,” John Wilson (1922–2015) said of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. “He was able to use his verbal skills to convince masses of ordinary people to do these extraordinary things . . . all of that is what I’m trying to put into a head.”
Several depictions of Dr. King are included in the revelatory and necessary exhibition “Witnessing Humanity: The Art of John Wilson,” featuring more than one hundred paintings, lithographs, drawings, sculptures, and children’s books by artist and educator John Wilson, on view at the Met through February 8. Talking about his monumental bust of Dr. King, Wilson further explained, “King’s head is titled forward — not bowed — so that someone standing below will have a kind of eyeball-to-eyeball confrontation with him. I wanted to show that kind of brooding, contemplative, inner-directed person that’s the essence of the man.”
Born in Roxbury, Massachusetts, in 1922, Wilson was driven by community activism against racial injustice, creating works that detailed the Black experience in America. “An artist is ipso facto critical of society . . . constantly dissecting,” he noted. “I want my art to reach people. I want people to get the message that my art has. I want their social attitudes to change as a result of the things I do.”
The exhibition is splendidly curated by the Met’s Jennifer Farrell, Maryland Institute College of Art’s Leslie King-Hammond, and the MFA’s Patrick Murphy and Edward Saywell, with detailed information and lots of powerful quotes by Wilson, who died in Brookline in 2015, leaving behind a remarkable legacy that is finally reaching people, getting the attention it deserves. On January 23 at 6:00, printmaker Karen J Revis will present an “Artists on Artworks” talk on the exhibit, and on February 3 at 6:00, the Met is hosting the free program “A Celebration of John Wilson” in Grace Rainey Rogers Auditorium with Lisa Farrington, Lowery Stokes Sims, Derrick Adams, and King-Hammond.
Below are Wilson’s own words accompanying several important works.
John Wilson, study for the mural The Incident, opaque and transparent watercolor, ink, and graphite, 1952 (Yale University Art Gallery [courtesy the Estate of John Woodrow Wilson] / licensed by VAGA at Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York)
“He put into words what I wanted to express visually, the struggle of African Americans to maintain their human dignity in an oppressive world,” Wilson said of Richard Wright.
John Wilson, My Brother, oil on panel, 1942 (Smith College Museum of Art / courtesy the Estate of John Wilson)
“I am a Black artist. I am a Black person. To me, my experience as a Black person has given me a special way of looking at the world and a special identity with others who experience some injustices. . . . Themes I have dealt with are not because I sat down and said I wanted to make a political statement but because of emotional experiences.”
John Wilson, Streetcar Scene, lithograph, 1945 (the Metropolitan Museum of Art / courtesy the Estate of John Wilson)
“I drew scenes of the world around me which reflected the sense of alienation I felt as a Black artist in a segregated world. I saw no examples of art that depicted the people and the realities of the Black neighborhood I lived in.”
John Wilson, Adolescence, lithograph, 1943 (courtesy the Estate of John Wilson/Artists Rights Society (ARS), Museum of Fine Arts, Boston)
Adolescence is “an imaginative interpretation of the street I lived on . . . [an attempt to express] the bewilderment and search for understanding of a Negro boy growing up in the midst of the inconsistencies, the squalor, and the cramped poverty-stricken confusion of life in a typical North American Negro ghetto. . . . I don’t even know if I was conscious of that boy in the foreground as a self-portrait or not. But I look back on it, [and] clearly it’s a self-portrait.”
“The aim of the Mexican muralist movement was to be spokespeople for the common man. They wanted to create works of art expressing the reality of the forgotten ones, revealing their history, their celebrations, and struggles. . . . Through Mexican art I began to experience a sense of how to depict my reality.”
John Wilson, Oracle, ink, chalk, and collage on paper, 1965 (courtesy the Estate of John Wilson / licensed by VAGA at Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York)
“As a Black art student in 1940–41, I became increasingly aware that the illustrations in art history books and the great works in this museum which were statements of profound truth and beauty did not include images of Black people. By omission this seemed to be saying that Black people were not significant. I lived in a world in which the only public images of Blacks were stereotypical, dehumanized caricatures. These were the only images that I saw of Blacks in the newspapers and films and all public media of that time.”
John Wilson, Deliver Us from Evil, lithograph, 1943 (courtesy the Estate of John Wilson/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York)
“I was an idealistic young African American art student, struggling to find a way to express my fears and anger about the oppression of African American people in America. For me, the ruthless, efficient, invincible German storm troopers became a symbol of all-powerful forces of oppression, in which individuals were modeled into collective killing machines, fueled by ideologies of hate and racial superiority. I identified with the victims of this [Nazi] army, and [War Machine] is my attempt to make a graphic image of the terror engendered by these troops.”
“This business of the terror that was used to keep Black people in their place really worked. I wasn’t born in the South, but the South was a microcosm. There was actual physical lynching in the North. . . . I heard someone make a speech once in which he said, ‘Well, this lynching and the threat of lynching is what keeps Black people in their place.’”
[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]
Juxtapose brings the shadow boxes of Joseph Cornell to life (photo by Leah Huete)
JUXTAPOSE
59E59 Theaters
59 East 59th St. between Park & Madison Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through January 25, $44 www.59e59.org
“Shadow boxes become poetic theater or settings wherein are metamorphosed the elements of a childhood pastime,” Nyack-born artist Joseph Cornell wrote. “The fragile, shimmering globules become the shimmering but more enduring planets — a connotation of moon and tides — the association of water less subtle, as when driftwood pieces make up a proscenium to set off the dazzling white of sea foam and billowy cloud crystallized in a pipe of fancy.”
Or, as a character declares in Happenstance Theater’s Juxtapose: A Theatrical Shadow Box, which advertises itself as being inspired by the art of Cornell and the films of Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Jacques Tati, “Sacre bleu! What a mess.”
You can say that again.
You have to look hard to find those art and film references in the final product, a confusing seventy-five minutes in which five actors wander around an abstract rooming house doing odd, repetitive things that don’t make much sense, psychologically or geographically. They consist of an unnamed collector (Mark Jaster), concierge Rosabelle (Sabrina Selma Mandell), Spilleth, a bird-woman who falls from the sky and through the roof (Gwen Grastorf), Étoile, a ballerina (Sarah Olmsted Thomas), and Blue, a childlike juggler-magician (Alex Vernon). The set and props, by Vernon and codirectors Jaster and Mandell, are centered by a large, empty white frame that is occasionally filled with various objects, from a laundry clothing line and a ladder to a window and a white scrim on which a circular image is projected. The stage also includes an old phonograph, a coat rack, a wrapped package, a conch shell, and a globe. Étoile makes weird noises when she locks and unlocks her door. Blue bounces a ball. The collector toys with his hat. Rosabelle puts on a scratchy record. Étoile tries on a new costume. Spilleth — well, I’m not sure what she does.
Among the Cornell works that served as inspiration were Observatory: Corona Borealis Casement,Toward the Blue Peninsula, and Andromeda: Grand Hôtel de l’Observatoire, but the show never fully captures the surreal nature of Cornell’s constructions, the quirky atmosphere of Jeunet’s films (Amélie,Delicatessen), or the comic genius of Tati’s Monsieur Hulot (Mon Oncle,Playtime). However, the soundtrack is a highlight, featuring songs by Irving Berlin, J. S. Bach, Hoagy Carmichael, George Frideric Handel, and Jacques Offenbach.
When the pandemic lockdown took effect, Happenstance reimagined the in-progress piece as Juxtapose Tenement, an interactive website in which you click on each character’s key to enter their unique shadow box and follow their narratives. I found that far more charming, inventive, and engaging than what is brought to life onstage, which failed to stir the audience the night I saw the play.
If this whets your appetite for more Cornell online, it’s worth checking out The House on Utopia Parkway, Wes Anderson’s Paris re-creation of the artist’s Queens studio; interestingly, Cornell never left America, and he traveled outside New York only to attend Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts.
[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]
Hamish Linklater and Miriam Silverman play spouses forced to collaborate on a film in The Disappear (photo by Jeremy Daniel)
THE DISAPPEAR
Audible’s Minetta Lane Theatre
18 Minetta Lane between Sixth Ave. and MacDougal St.
Tuesday – Sunday through February 22, $54-$130 www.audible.com
In writer-director Erica Schmidt’s wildly entertaining The Disappear, Hamish Linklater stars as an egocentric narcissistic film director who is considering deleting all the dialogue from the violent horror movie he is working on. Fortunately, Schmidt has not opted to silence Linklater’s character, who spends the first act spouting so much self-centered cringy bluster that you want him to shut up already, but after intermission you can’t wait to hear what idiotic blather he’ll spit out next.
Making its world premiere at Audible’s Minetta Lane Theatre through February 22, the play takes place in the rustic living room of a farmhouse in the Hudson Valley, where Benjamin Braxton (Linklater) lives with his understanding wife, successful novelist Mira Blair (Miriam Silverman), and their teenage daughter, climate activist Dolly (Anna Mirodin). While Mira misses the city, Ben is insistent that he needs the peace and quiet of the country to finish editing the screenplay he is preparing to shoot.
“Am I exhausting? Am I exhausting to you?” Ben asks Mira at the very beginning. We soon find out that he’s exhausting to everybody.
Much to the chagrin of his longtime friend and producer, the erudite Brit Michael Bloom (Dylan Baker), Ben has his heart set on casting ingénue Julie Wells (Madeline Brewer) as Mirabella, a name suspiciously like his wife’s. Ben is instantly smitten with Julie, declaring her his muse, and they seal the deal with a kiss. It turns out that this is not the first time Ben has fallen for his leading lady. “Oh, Ben. It isn’t happening again, is it? You haven’t . . . ,” Michael says with concern.
When Michael refuses to let Ben hire Julie, Ben decides to write a new film specifically for her, a nearly dialogue-free tale about a man having an affair who makes a joke about wishing his wife were dead, only to have her actually vanish. Ben gets handsome movie star Raf Night (Kelvin Harrison Jr.) for the male lead, which further excites Julie (and, later, Mira).
But soon they are all working together on an adaptation of Mira’s book All the Silence and All the Wonder, and hilarious mayhem ensues as a torrential storm threatens.
The Disappear is a hilarious seriocomedy about art and love (photo by Jeremy Daniel)
With its numerous Chekhovian elements, The Disappear has a timeless quality; Ben works at a small table with pencil and paper, there are no electronics in the living room, candles line the fireplace mantel, and many of Jennifer Moeller and Miriam Kelleher’s costumes are old-fashioned, highlighted by Julie’s silly bonnet-topped outfit. Only later does the contemporary world appear: a smartphone and laptop show up and Julie enters wearing a half green-screen VFX suit, while the repartee often recalls sly British drawing room comedies.
And oh, what repartee! Among Ben’s fanciful lines are “God, Mira. Was your heart consumed by your efficiency?,” “I look at you and I see my death — like: this is it?!? This is it until I die?,” and “I will not think before I speak. God. You’re so restrictive! Ughhh.” When Ben asks Mira, “Do you know how smart one has to be to play dumb really well?,” she replies, “Tell me more about that, Ben.” And when Mira says, “Aren’t you always lying — just a little bit,” Ben answers, “At least I’m honest about it.”
Ben is so obnoxious and self-obsessed that he even admits that he loves filmmaking more than he does Dolly. Despite Ben’s endless flaws, Michael sticks by him, and Mira claims she loves him. Ben says about his film, “It’s an epic story about human connection,” but he has no idea how to connect with people or the world, which is the play’s central focus. He is an inconsiderate man-child who can’t relate to Julie’s fascination with butterflies, Dolly’s desire to plant trees, or Mira’s caring nature.
Linklater (The Pain of My Belligerence,Seminar) is sensational as the boorish Ben, imbuing him with a riotous physicality as he lumbers across Brett J. Banakis’s charming set. Tony winner Silverman (The Sign in Sidney Brustein’s Window,Junk) is an excellent foil as Mira, who sees through his shenanigans but remains as loyal as she can for as long as she can. (“Mira” means “look” in Spanish, perhaps referring to how she regards him.) Tony and three-time Emmy nominee Baker (La Bête,Not About Heroes) is a joy as Michael, who gets to shine in an uproarious late scene. Brewer (Cabaret,Little Shop of Horrors), best known as Janine on The Handmaid’s Tale, is sublimely seductive as the mysterious Julie, who can quote from Dido and Aeneas and King Lear while also playing coy. Harrison Jr. (Cyrano,The Lion King) is extremely funny as Raf, a self-aware, practical man who knows what he wants and goes after it. And Mirodin makes a wonderful New York stage debut as Dolly, nearly stealing the second act right out from under Linklater.
In the script, Schmidt, whose previous works include the gorgeously rendered Lucy, the beautifully frenetic Mac Beth, and the musical adaptation Cyrano, aptly describes the play as “a seriocomedy about making art while the world is falling apart,” and at one point Mira explains, “We all have to plan around disaster.”
The world may be falling apart, but seeing The Disappear would be part of any good plan around disaster.
[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]
Anat Maltz’s Real Estate screens January 21 at the New York Jewish Film Festival
THIRTY-FIFTH ANNUAL NEW YORK JEWISH FILM FESTIVAL
Walter Reade Theater, Film at Lincoln Center
165 West 65th St. between Broadway & Amsterdam Aves.
January 14-28 www.filmlinc.org thejewishmuseum.org
The New York Jewish Film Festival is now celebrating its thirty-fifth year of bringing narrative features, documentaries, and shorts dealing with Judaism, Israel, and the Jewish diaspora, from romantic comedies and poignant dramas to hard-hitting looks at the state of the world amid ever-growing antisemitism. As I’ve noted before, it sometimes feels like a political statement just to attend the festival.
A joint production of the Jewish Museum and Film at Lincoln Center, the 2026 edition runs January 14-28, consisting of twenty-nine works from the United States, France, Germany, Spain, Belgium, Argentina, the Netherlands, Switzerland, Poland, Canada, Denmark, Uganda, and Israel, including many New York premieres. The festival opens with Ken Scott’s Once Upon My Mother, about a Moroccan family in Paris with a matriarch determined to ensure her son lives a happy life, based on an autobiographical novel by Roland Perez, who will participate in Q&As following both screenings. The centerpiece selection is Guillaume Ribot’s All I Had Was Nothingness, which follows director Claude Lanzmann during his twelve years making Shoah. NYJFF26 concludes with actor Matthew Shear’s writing and directing debut, Fantasy Life, in which a schlubby but endearing schlemiel/schlimazel/shmegege/shmendrik becomes a manny for an actress, her rock musician husband, and their three young daughters, starring Amanda Peet, Judd Hirsch, Andrea Martin, Bob Balaban, Alessandro Nivola, Jessica Harper, and Zosia Mamet.
Among the other highlights are Abby Ginzberg’s Labors of Love: The Life and Legacy of Henrietta Szold, about the founder of Hadassah; Marisa Fox’s My Underground Mother, who finds out that her mother was a spy and freedom fighter against the Nazis; Anat Maltz’s Real Estate, which takes place over the course of one day as a young couple about to have a baby are forced out of their Tel Aviv apartment; and a restoration of Aleksander Marten’s 1936 I Have Sinned, the first Yiddish sound film made in Poland. And this year’s winner for best title is Emily Lobsenz’s A Bit of Everything and Matzoh Balls Too.
Below are several films to watch out for; most screenings throughout the festival will be followed by a discussion with directors, producers, subjects, cast members, or experts.
All I Had Was Nothingness follows Claude Lanzmann as he makes Shoah
ALL I HAD WAS NOTHINGNESS (Guillaume Ribot, 2025)
Walter Reade Theater
Thursday, January 22, 2:30 & 7:45 www.filmlinc.org mk2films.com
In 1985, Claude Lanzmann’s extraordinary nine-and-a-half-hour epic, Shoah, changed the discussion surrounding the Holocaust, as Lanzmann, a French Jew, traveled around the world interviewing survivors, witnesses, collaborators, and perpetrators. In honor of the fortieth anniversary of Lanzmann’s award-winning magnum opus, French director and photographer Guillaume Ribot, who is not Jewish, has made All I Had Was Nothingness, a remarkable documentary, produced by Claude’s widow, Dominique Lanzmann, that follows Lanzmann on his journey, filled with self-doubt, doors slammed in his face, and a lack of funds that constantly threaten the project. Ribot and editor Svetlana Vaynblat went through two hundred hours of unused footage to put the film together, with Ribot adding narration taken directly from Lanzmann’s writings, primarily from his 2009 memoir, The Patagonian Hare. Even though we know that Shoah gets released to widespread acclaim — and is followed by such other Holocaust films as Sobibor, 14 October 1943, 4 p.m.,The Last of the Unjust, and Shoah: Four Sisters before Lanzmann died in 2018 at the age of ninety-two — the story plays out like a gripping, intimate thriller.
“Making Shoah was a long and difficult battle,” Lanzmann (voiced by Ribot) says early on. “I wanted to film, but all I had was nothingness. The subject of Shoah is death itself. Death and its radicality. On some evenings it felt like senseless suffering, and I was ready to give up. But during those twelve years of work, I always forced myself to stare relentlessly into the black sun of the Shoah.”
Among the people Lanzmann meets are Abraham Bomba, who survived Treblinka, where he was forced to cut the hair of women who were gassed to death; Simon Srebnik, a Chelmno survivor whose father was killed in the Łódź Ghetto and whose mother was murdered in a gas van in the concentration camp; SS commander Gustav Laabs; convicted Treblinka exterminator Franz Suchomel; locals who lived next to concentration camps and claim to have not known what was going on inside; Treblinka train engineer Henryk Gawkowski; Heinz Schubert from the Einsatzgruppen; Treblinka survivor Richard Glazar; Einsatzgruppe Obersturmführer Karl Kretschmer; and Yitzhak “Antek” Zuckerman, deputy commander of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. “Daily, we tackled a new prey,” Lanzmann notes as he attempts to “deceive the deceivers.”
Along the way, Lanzmann obtains a fake passport under the name Claude-Marie Sorel, quarrels with his cameraman William Lubtchansky (whose father was gassed in Auschwitz), wonders what the overall message of the film will be, uses a special hidden camera, and is unable to raise a single dollar from potential American investors. He also smokes a lot of cigarettes.
Ribot, whose previous films include Le Cahier de Susi, inspired by the discovery of a notebook by an eleven-year-old girl who was murdered in Auschwitz, and Treblinka, je suis le dernier Juif, about camp survivor Chil Rajchman, turns the focus on Lanzmann and the lengths documentarians will go to tell their stories. All I Had Was Nothingness is a valuable addition to films about the Holocaust, but it is much more than that in its search for the truth, which can be so easily hidden, while providing a behind-the-scenes look at the making of a masterpiece.
“I could have been one of the victims. I knew nothing of it, truly,” Lanzmann says about his knowledge of the Holocaust prior to doing his research for the film. “My knowledge was nil. Nothing but a statistic, an abstract figure.” Through such necessary films as Shoah and, now, All I Had Was Nothingness, the world knows.
Lanzmann often lingers on his own eyes and the eyes of his subjects, penetrating shots that are emotionally and psychologically powerful. “My journey has led me to capture eyes that have seen horror. The eyes that saw, I saw them too,” he says. And now we can seem them as well, bearing witness.
(All I Had Was Nothingness is screening January 22 at 2:30 and 7:45, with Vaynblat on hand for Q&As.)
Actor, writer, director, activist, and family man Charles Grodin is subject of fascinating documentary
CHARLES GRODIN: REBEL WITH A CAUSE (James L. Freedman, 2025)
Walter Reade Theater
Sunday, January 25, 6:15, and Monday, January 26, 1:00 www.filmlinc.org charlesgrodinfilm.com
James L. Freedman’s Charles Grodin: Rebel with a Cause reveals that the man best known to the general public for the Beethoven movies and his oddball, awkward, but hilarious talk-show appearances was in fact a deeply beloved, respected, and humble husband, father, and grandfather, a hugely successful actor, director, and writer on the big screen, the small screen, and the stage, and a fierce fighter of injustice.
“Robert Kennedy once said, ‘Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope,’” writer, director, producer, and narrator Freedman says at the beginning of the documentary. “Charles Sidney Grodin, inspiring, cajoling, and annoying people every step of the way, unleashed a tidal wave of hope.”
Grodin was born in Pittsburgh in 1935 to Orthodox Jewish parents; his maternal grandfather was a talmudic scholar from Belarus, and he was estranged from his difficult father. He was impeached as fifth-grade class president and thrown out of Hebrew school. Deciding to become an actor after seeing George Stevens’s 1951 classic A Place in the Sun, Grodin left college and moved to New York City, where he worked as a cabdriver and a nightwatchman while studying acting with Uta Hagen and Lee Strasberg. By the late 1950s, he was appearing on episodic television, including numerous Westerns, made his Broadway debut in 1962, and starred in the long-forgotten Sex and the College Girl in 1964; his big breaks came in 1968, when he played Dr. Hill in Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby and directed Lovers and Other Strangers on the Great White Way. In archival interviews, he talks about turning down the role of Benjamin Braddock in The Graduate, battling Polanski on set, being fired three times from Candid Camera, directing the controversial television special Simon & Garfunkel: Songs of America, and the failure of his first marriage.
Then, in the 1970s, he made it big with such films as Catch-22,The Heartbreak Kid, and Heaven Can Wait and the Broadway hit Same Time, Next Year. Among those singing his praises as a performer and friend are Robert De Niro (Midnight Run), Marlo Thomas (Thieves), Martin Short (Clifford), Ellen Burstyn (Same Time, Next Year), Lewis Black (Madoff), Jon Lovitz (Last Resort), Carol Burnett (Fresno), Alan Arkin (Catch-22), Art Garfunkel, and director Martin Brest (Midnight Run).
“He was a phenomenal actor. There is no actor better than him,” says Elaine May, who directed Grodin in The Heartbreak Kid. Marc Maron calls him a “cranky comedic genius.” Steve Martin (The Lonely Guy) points out, “None of us could do what he did.” Richard Kind (Clifford) explains, “Chuck was the most caring, loving narcissist.” Television executive Henry Schlieff and producer Julian Schlossberg discuss their positions on Grodin’s ever-changing top-ten-friends list. Grodin’s second wife, Elissa, a journalist he met when she was doing a story on him, notes, “He was unbelievably annoying, and I adored him.” Freedman also speaks with Grodin’s son, Nick, and daughter, Marion.
The documentary takes a fascinating shift when it turns its attention to Grodin’s extensive work for unjustly imprisoned people serving long sentences because of the Felony Murder Rule and the Rockefeller Drug Laws. He helped free Elaine Bartlett, June Benson Lambert, Randy Credico, and Jan Warren, all of whom participate in the film. “He rescued me,” Warren states. Elissa Grodin says, “He was always defending underdogs.” He brought his activism to The Charles Grodin Show, which ran on CNBC from 1995 to 1998; he was hired by Roger Ailes, who later founded Fox News.
Freedman and editor Frank Laughlin interweave new interviews with home movies, news reports, and lots of film clips of Grodin — who died in 2021 at the age of eighty-six — in films and on talk shows (Jon Stewart declares him “the best talk show guest ever . . . ever!”). It’s a joyful celebration of an extraordinary human being, a supremely talented and endlessly inventive individual whose impact on everyone he met was profound.
De Niro sums it all up when he says, “Chuck was a very special person.”
(Charles Grodin: Rebel with a Cause is screening January 25 at 6:15 and January 26 at 1:00, both followed by Q&As with Freedman.)
Amanda Peet and Matthew Shear star in Shear’s Fantasy Life, the closing night selection of NYJFF26
FANTASY LIFE (Matthew Shear, 2025)
Walter Reade Theater
Wednesday, January 28, 1:15 & 7:15 www.filmlinc.org
After losing his job, Sam (Matthew Shear) becomes a manny for actor Dianne (Amanda Peet), rock bassist David (Alessandro Nivola), and their three young girls (Riley Vinson, Romy Fay, Callie Santoro), and a touching hilarity ensues as Sam contemplates his future, not always making the best choices. Judd Hirsch and Andrea Martin play David’s parents, Bob Balaban and Jessica Harper are Dianne’s father and mother, and Holland Taylor makes a cameo as a therapist. Peet is in top form, building a gentle and tender chemistry with Shear, in his debut as a writer-director. Fantasy Life closes the festival on January 28 at 1:15 and 7:15, preceded by Jack Feldstein’s six-minute Animated New Yorkers: Joel and followed by a Q&A with Shear and Peet.
[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]
Harriet Stubbs will by paying tribute to Queen and Coldplay in Candlelight concerts on January 16 (photo by Julienne Schaer)
Who:Harriet Stubbs What:Candlelight concerts Where:St. Ann & the Holy Trinity Church, 157 Montague St. When: Friday, January 16, Queen, $46.50-$67, 6:30; Coldplay, $36.50-$65.50, 8:45 Why: “There’s nothing like playing to my adopted hometown of New York; it’s electrifying,” pianist Harriet Stubbs told me in a May 2024 twi-ny talk. A child prodigy in her native England, Stubbs is an extraordinary pianist, performing an intoxicating mix of classical and pop music, ranging from Beethoven, Bach, and Gould to David Bowie, Nick Cave, and the Beatles. Having recovered from a debilitating nerve injury that left her unable to even text — she had successful hand surgery in the fall — Stubbs is back behind the keys, doing what she does best.
On January 16 at 6:30, she will be at St. Ann & the Holy Trinity Church in Brooklyn for “Candlelight: Tribute to Queen,” in which she will play mind-blowing instrumental versions of many of Queen’s best-loved hits, from “Another One Bites the Dust” to “Bohemian Rhapsody.” That will be followed at 8:45 (separate admission) by “Candlelight: A Tribute to Coldplay,” featuring such songs as “Clocks,” “Paradise,” and “Sky Full of Stars.”
There’s a reason why I’ve asked her to participate in twi-ny’s twenty-fifth anniversary celebration at the Coffee House Club on June 3: She’s a unique and dynamic performer and a delightful human being.
[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]
