this week in film and television

IFC CENTER AT TWENTY: ME AND YOU AND EVERYONE WE KNOW

Miranda July’s Me and You and Everyone We Know returns to IFC Center in honor of theater’s twentieth anniversary

ME AND YOU AND EVERYONE WE KNOW (Miranda July, 2005)
IFC Center
323 Sixth Ave. at West Third St.
Tuesday, June 17, 12:40 & 6:50, $12.70
www.ifccenter.com
www.mirandajuly.com

Winner of a Special Jury Prize at Sundance “for originality of vision,” performance artist Miranda July’s feature-film directorial debut is a success from start to finish, an original, engaging, and utterly charming romantic comedy that is as unique as it is familiar. July, who also wrote the screenplay, stars as an idiosyncratic young performance artist who is looking for a relationship in her rather mundane life. She immediately falls for a shoe salesman (John Hawkes) who is separating from his wife and trying to understand his kids (Brandon Ratcliff and Miles Thompson), who are having a strange online dalliance with a mystery e-mailer. Meanwhile, two high school girls (Najarra Townsend and Natasha Slayton) are sexually tormenting a bizarre loner (Brad Henke) who is sexually tormenting them right back, both humorously and dangerously.

It’s nearly impossible to take your eyes off of July, whose innovative audio and visual installations and short films have been shown at the Andy Warhol Museum, the Whitney Biennial, the Kitchen, Lincoln Center, the Museum of Modern Art, Union Square Park, and the Rotterdam International Film Festival, among many other prestigious places. The Vermont native has gone on to make such other features as The Future and Kajillionaire and written such books as No One Belongs Here More Than You, The First Bad Man, and All Fours while also developing a deeply personal and boldly honest online presence.

Me and You and Everyone We Know is screening June 17 at 12:40 & 6:50 as part of IFC Center’s twentieth anniversary celebration of its opening at the old Waverly, with tickets at the 2005 price of $10.75 (plus $1.95 service fee), along with 2005 prices for drinks and popcorn. The one-day party of the theater’s original lineup also includes a 4K restoration of William Lustig’s 1980 slasher sensation Maniac, starring Joe Spinell, with Lustig in conversation with Aimee Kuge after the 7:15 screening; Yasujiro Ozu’s 1932 silent I Was Born, But . . .; and D. A. Pennebaker’s genre-redefining 1967 Bob Dylan documentary, Don’t Look Back. All screenings will be preceded by Joe Stankus’s 2014 five-minute black-and-white Marquee, in which Larry Alaimo talks about the changes in the neighborhood as he updates the IFC Center marquee.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

SOLID GOLD STARS: FIRST SATURDAY AT THE BROOKLYN MUSEUM

Bertha Vanayshunis will present Drag History Hour at the Brooklyn Museum on June 7

STAR-MAKERS
Brooklyn Museum
200 Eastern Parkway at Washington St.
Saturday, June 7, free with advance RSVP, 5:00 – 10:00
212-864-5400
www.brooklynmuseum.org

The Brooklyn Museum honors queer artists with its free Pride Month First Saturday program, “Star-Makers,” inspired by Oscar yi Hou’s The Arm Wrestle of Chip & Spike; aka: Star-Makers. The evening features live performances by the New York City Gay Men’s Chorus, Tasha, Boston Chery, and Undocubougie; a Drag History Hour performance lecture by Bertha Vanayshun, with Dev Doee, I’m Baby, Emi Grate, Harriet Tugsmen, and Aimee Amour; a pop-up Brooklyn market featuring Depop; a voter registration drive; a Hands-On workshop in which participants will make Pride pins; the Teen Talk “Queering the Collection”; Queer Figure Drawing with the Brooklyn Loft; and a screening of Seán Devlin’s 2023 film, Asog.

In addition, the galleries will be open late so you can check out “Nancy Elizabeth Prophet: I Will Not Bend an Inch,” “Brooklyn Abstraction: Four Artists, Four Walls,” “Consuelo Kanaga: Catch the Spirit,” “The Dinner Party by Judy Chicago,” “Breaking the Mold: Brooklyn Museum at 200,” and more.

The glittering “Solid Gold” exhibit, which comprises more than five hundred gold objects, closes July 6. Divided into such sections as “Origins of Gold,” “Design Strategies,” and “Crowned,” the exhibition includes contemporary and ancient jewelry, fashion, film clips, ceramics, paintings, illuminated manuscripts, photographs, coins, and video installations. Among the highlights are a 1930s radio, Christian Louboutin footwear, a tribute to Elizabeth Taylor and the 1963 film Cleopatra, Zadik Zadikian’s 2024 Path to Nine sculpture, Egyptian gold flakes from 1938–1759 BCE, Rembrandt’s Jan Uytenbogaert, Receiver — General (The Gold — Weigher), John Singer Sargent’s Egyptian Woman (Coin Necklace), an excerpt from King Vidor’s Cover Girl with Rita Hayworth, artifacts from James Lee Byars’s 1994 Santa Fe performance, photos by Charles “Teenie” Harris, a necklace by Alexander Calder, a nineteenth-century reclining Buddha, and dresses by the Blonds, John Galliano, Mary McFadden, Paco Rabanne, Halston, and Yves Saint Laurent. Be sure to address appropriately.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

CATS ARE EVERYTHING: PROCESSING GRIEF AND LOSS THROUGH FELINE FRIENDS

Documentary subject Eshete hunkers down in his makeshift Brooklyn home with his beloved cats

THE CAT MAN ESHETE (Laura Checkoway, 2025)
Brooklyn Film Festival
Windmill Studios
300 Kingsland Ave.
Wednesday, June 4, $18, 6:00
Festival runs May 30 – June 8
www.brooklynfilmfestival.org

“I admire myself for surviving all this,” Eshete says as he rides his bike over the Brooklyn Bridge at the end of Oscar winner Laura Checkoway’s sweet-natured, gently moving documentary The Cat Man Eshete, making its Brooklyn premiere June 4 at the Brooklyn Film Festival.

Eshete, which means harvest, was born and raised in Gondar, Ethiopia, in August 1960, part of a large and happy family. Following the overthrow of Emperor Haile Selassie in 1974, he became a member of the underground Ethiopian Revolutionary Party but had to flee after being tortured. He spent five years in a refugee camp in Sudan before arriving in America. Trying to build a life for himself, he suffered a construction accident that put him on disability for twenty years, until his structured settlement ran out. He’s been living outside ever since, in a small spot on the side of a street, in front of a chainlink fence; behind the fence is an industrial area on the East River, with views of Lower Manhattan and the Statue of Liberty.

“Homeless bum, that’s how they see me,” he says. “They don’t know what I’ve been through.”

But Eshete is not looking for sympathy or handouts; he seems to be okay existing how he does, surrounded by his beloved cats, which he has been taking care of for more than a dozen years.

His grizzled face and childlike eyes are nearly hidden by his overgrown, unkempt gray, white, and black beard and mustache. He sits and sleeps on a ratty red armchair with cardboard on which he has scrawled a manifesto about “racist madness.” His friends Robert and Diane, who live in the apartment building Eshete was evicted from, have been feeding him for two decades. People from the neighborhood stop by and say hello, wishing him well.

But all that matters to him are his kitties.

“I have tremendous love for them. So deep, you know?” he explains. “My cats are everything.”

His created family consists of Horizon, Gorgeous, George Washington, Doodles, Junior, Frank Sinatra, Jesse Jackson, Winston Churchill, Castro, Patrice Lumumba, Princess Diana, Albert Einstein, Oprah, Squirt, Nubia, Sheba, Piggy, Animation, Dragon Lady, Ms. Ethiopia the Rocket Girl, Damascus, and Rico. He has a fraught relationship with Jeneane, a married woman who likes to feed the cats and talk to them, but Eshete thinks she is only bothering them; it might be jealousy, as the cats are more than just stray animals to Eshete.

As the twenty-six-minute documentary continues, Eshete delves into grief and loss, mentions the plans he had for himself and his relatives. But those dreams turned into nightmares, as memories of home flood his mind.

“It look like heaven, like a fairy-tale land,” he remembers as shots of Gondar, taken by director of photography Greg Harriott, appear onscreen.

The story also resonates as the current administration seeks to deport legal and illegal immigrants and cuts the budgets for homeless services.

But none of that concerns Eshete, who admits, “I am a traumatized person. I don’t like medication, though. My grief — I listen to music, I love nature. You know, the cats . . . Cats are great. Out of darkness give you light.”

The Cat Man Eshete is screening at Windmill Studios on June 4 at 6:00 in the “Protecting the Family” section of the festival, along with Chris Peters’s It’s Expensive to Be Poor, Nicholas Stachurski’s Land of Lost Toys, and Jesse Samos Leaman and Maite Martin Samos’s Mother of Chooks.

In addition, it will begin streaming June 16 on the Al Jazeera English series Witness in conjunction with World Refugee Day, June 20.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

CELEBRATING CHARLOTTE: HONORING PIONEER ZWERIN AT METROGRAPH

Charlotte Zwerin is being celebrated with three-film series at Metrograph (photo courtesy Warner Bros. / Everett)

CHARLOTTE ZWERIN — VÉRITÉ PIONEER: SALESMAN (Albert Maysles, David Maysles, and Charlotte Zwerin, 1969)
Metrograph
7 Ludlow St. between Canal & Hester Sts.
Saturday, May 31, 5:10, and Thursday, June 5, 4:40
metrograph.com

Fifty-six years ago, brothers Albert and David Maysles and Charlotte Zwerin made the highly influential black-and-white documentary Salesman, an intimate portrait of four traveling door-to-door Bible salesmen: Jamie Baker, Raymond Martos, Charles McDevitt, and particularly Boston’s Paul Brennan. “Go out there and get ’em,” their boss, who doesn’t exactly follow the teachings of Jesus, declares as they prepare to spread the word of the Lord, although more to earn a living than as a religious calling. The shots of Brennan singing “If I Were a Rich Man” in the snow are priceless, but the end will haunt you. Without Salesman, there probably never would have been a Glengarry Glen Ross and so many other films. All these years later, this fascinating piece of Americana, which was added to the National Film Registry of the Library of Congress in 1992, still feels fresh and relevant in these hard times.

The Maysles brothers and Zwerin went on to make other documentaries that redefined the nonfiction genre, including Gimme Shelter, and Zwerin scored a major solo success with the unforgettable Thelonius Monk: Straight, No Chaser. Presented by ACE (the American Cinema Editors), Salesman is screening May 31 and June 5 in the Metrograph series “Charlotte Zwerin: Vérité Pioneer,” honoring the Direct Cinema leader, who died in 2004 at the age of seventy-two; the tribute also features Gimme Shelter and Thelonius Monk: Straight, No Chaser. The May 31 showing of Salesman will be followed by a panel discussion with editor-directors Mirra Bank, Deborah Dickson, Susan Froemke, and Muffie Meyer, moderated by Michael Schulman.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

MAN OF IRON: ANDRZEJ WAJDA CELEBRATED AT NYPFF20

Martin Scorsese will introduce Andrzej Wajda’s Ashes and Diamonds at New York Polish Film Festival

NEW YORK POLISH FILM FESTIVAL
Scandinavia House
58 Park Ave. at 38th St.
Directors Guild Theater
110 West 57th St. between Fifth & Sixth Aves.
May 27-31, all access pass $150
nypff.com

“I accept this great honor not as a personal tribute but as a tribute to all of Polish cinema,” Polish auteur Andrzej Wajda said upon accepting his honorary lifetime achievement Oscar from Jane Fonda in 2000. “The subject of many of our films was the war, the atrocities of Nazism, and the tragedies brought by communism. This is why today I thank the American friends of Poland and my compatriots for helping my country rejoin the family of democratic nations, rejoin the Western civilizations, its institutions and security structures. My fervent hope is that the only flames people will encounter will be the great passions of the heart — love, gratitude, and solidarity.”

That passion will be on view at the twentieth edition of the New York Polish Film Festival, which celebrates the life and career of the Suwałki-born director and resistance fighter who died in 2016 at the age of ninety — not many honorary Academy Award winners go on to live another sixteen years and make eight more films. Running May 27–31 at the Directors Guild Theater and Scandinavia House — no need to check your map; Scandinavia still consists only of Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway, and Sweden — the festival will be screening eleven works, six by Wajda and five by contemporary filmmakers that reveal Wajda’s legacy.

NYPFF20 includes Wajda’s Ashes and Diamonds, Kanał, The Promised Land, Everything for Sale, and the Oscar-nominated Man of Iron and Katyń. The fest kicks off with 1957’s Kanał, which will be preceded by a reception and followed by a panel discussion. Polish cinema fan Martin Scorsese will introduce Ashes and Diamonds at the May 28 gala; “It announced the arrival of a master filmmaker,” has said of the war movie, which completed a trilogy begun with A Generation and Kanał. The extraordinary Katyń examines a brutal WWII massacre; the film stars Maja Ostaszewska, Artur Zmijewski, and Pawel Malaszynski, with a score by the great Krzysztof Penderecki.

Among the 2024 Polish selections are Xawery Żuławski’s Kulej: All That Glitters Isn’t Gold, about boxer Jerzy Kulej; Julie Rubio’s documentary The True Story of Tamara de Lempicka & the Art of Survival; and Magnus Von Horn’s crime drama The Girl with the Needle

Below is the full schedule.

Tuesday, May 27
Kanał (Canal) (Andrzej Wajda, 1957), preceded by a reception and followed by a panel discussion with professors Annette Insdorf and Rafal Syska, Scandinavia House, $30, 5:00

Under the Volcano (Pod wulkanem) (Damian Kocur, 2024), Scandinavia House, $25, 8:30

Wednesday, May 28
Opening night gala: Ashes and Diamonds (Popiół i diament) (Andrzej Wajda, 1958), introduced by Martin Scorsese, Directors Guild Theatre, $50, 7:15

Thursday, May 29
Everything for Sale (Wszystko na sprzedaż) (Andrzej Wajda, 1969), with special guest Małgorzata Potocka, Scandinavia House, $25, 5:30

The Promised Land (Ziemia obiecana) (Andrzej Wajda, 1975), introduced by Annette Insdorf, Scandinavia House, $25, 8:15

Friday, May 30
Forest (Las) (Lidia Duda, 2024), Scandinavia House, $25, 4:30

Katyń (Andrzej Wajda, 2007), Scandinavia House, $25, 6:15

The Girl with the Needle (Dziewczyna z igłą) (Magnus Von Horn, 2024), Scandinavia House, $25, 8:30

Saturday, May 31
Man of Iron (Człowiek z żelaza) (Andrzej Wajda, 1981), Scandinavia House, $25, 1:30

The True Story of Tamara de Lempicka & the Art of Survival (Julie Rubio, 2024), Scandinavia House, $25, 4:30

Kulej: All That Glitters Isn’t Gold (Kulej. Dwie strony medalu) (Xawery Żuławski, 2024), Scandinavia House, $25, 6:30

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

EVERYTHING IS A MOVIE: MOI-MÊME AT SEGAL FEST

Mojo Lorwin finishes his father’s film, Moi-même, after more than half a century

MOI-MÊME (Mojo Lorwin & Lee Breuer, 1968/2024)
Segal Center Film Festival on Theater and Performance
Anthology Film Archives
32 Second Ave. at Second St.
Saturday, May 17, $10– $14, 3:00
Festival runs May 15– 28
www.thesegalcenter.org
www.anthologyfilmarchives.org

In 1968, experimental theater director, playwright, and poet Lee Breuer began making a black-and-white improvised film during the May 1968 Paris riots, where he was living at the time. He and cinematographer John Rounds shot the footage but never added sound, edited it, or wrote a script. In 1970, Breuer cofounded the seminal New York City company Mabou Mines with Philip Glass, Ruth Maleczech, JoAnne Akalaitis, David Warrilow, and Frederick Neumann, winning numerous Obies among other accolades over the next half century, but he never finished the movie, which itself is about making a movie.

Breuer died in January 2021 at the age of eighty-three; one of his children, Mojo Lorwin, decided to complete the project, hiring voice actors and musicians and serving as writer, director, editor, and producer. The result is the hilarious Nouvelle Vague satire Moi-même (“Myself”), a sixty-five-minute foray into the world of François Truffaut, Jacques Rivette, Jean-Pierre Melville, Agnès Varda, William Klein, and Jean-Luc Godard, who makes a cameo, walking backward as Kevin shares a series of statements ending with “Everything is a movie.”

Kevin Mathewson stars as Kevin (voiced in 2024 by Declan Kenneally), an adolescent who is making a film with his alter ego (Patrick Martin). As he proceeds around town, he meets up with a strange driver (executive producer Russ Moro / 2024 composer Olivier Conan), a movie producer (Frederick Neumann / David Neumann, Frederick’s son), a starlet (Ginger Hall / Clove Galilee, Breuer and Maleczech’s daughter), the son of a baron (Warrilow / David Neumann), an Italian heiress (Renata / Tessie Herrasti), a revolutionary actress (Anna Backer / Tiera Lopper), her replacement (Judy Mathewson, Kevin’s younger sister / Ruma Breuer, Lee’s granddaughter), a sleazy agent (Mark Smith / Alon Andrews), a couple of goons (Pippo and Mike Trane / Frier McCollister), and the owner of a film shop (Lee Pampf / Thomas Cabus). He is often accompanied by his conscience (Maleczech / Alexandra Zelman-Doring) as he faces financial and creative crises.

Lorwin has fun with cinematic and societal tropes while maintaining the underground, DIY feel; for example, he doesn’t match the dialogue exactly to the movement of the characters’ mouths as they make such proclamations as “The movies aren’t fair,” “The movies are a game and everyone who plays is a cheater,” and “All I want is to be seen and heard.” The soundtrack consists of unexpected sound effects and songs and music by Frank LoCastro, Alex Klimovitsky, Eliot Krimsky, Conan, and others.

There’s lots of drinking and smoking, violent shootings, political ranting, discussions of art and love, vapid gatherings, a heist, a touch of psychedelia, and superfluous nudity, nearly everything you could possibly want in a French film.

“Film costs money, more than you’ve got,” the driver barks at Kevin. “Producers are perverts,” Kevin tells the actress while preparing a baby bottle of milk. Unable to afford film reels, Kevin says, “Film is more expensive than love and revolution.”

Describing the film to the agent, Kevin explains, “Here it is: It’s me, but it’s not me. You dig? I mean, it’s the film adaptation of me. I just need a little bread to turn boring old me into moi-même. Feels like doors are finally opening for me.” He delivers the last line as a door opens in front of him.

Perhaps the most important line of dialogue is given to Kevin from a man on the street, who tells him, “There are no rules.” I would add, “Viva la revolución!”

Moi-même is being shown May 17 at 3:00 at Anthology Film Archives as part of the Segal Center Film Festival on Theater and Performance, followed by a Q&A with Lorwin (Summer in the City, 2020 Brooklyn Film Festival) and Kevin Mathewson, moderated by Segal Center executive director Frank Hentschker. The festival runs May 15– 28 at Anthology and the CUNY Graduate Center and includes such other presentations as the North American premiere of Aniela Gabryel’s Radical Move, the US premiere of Sophie Fiennes’s Acting, Pinny Grylls and Sam Crane’s Grand Theft Hamlet, and a Richard Foreman retrospective.

Meanwhile, Mabou Mines (The Lost Ones, The Gospel at Colonus, Dollhouse) is still going strong; their latest piece, This Like a Dream Keeps Other Time, is playing May 15– 18 at their East Village home, @122CC.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

LIFE IS LIKE A BOX OF MATZAH: MOST PEOPLE DIE ON SUNDAYS

A Jewish family in Buenos Aires faces death and desperation in Most People Die on Sundays

MOST PEOPLE DIE ON SUNDAYS (LOS DOMINGOS MUEREN MÁS PERSONAS) (Iair Said, 2024)
Quad Cinema
34 West 13th St. between Fifth & Sixth Aves.
Opens Friday, May 2
quadcinema.com

In his 2019 debut feature-length documentary, Flora’s Life Is No Picnic, Buenos Aires–born filmmaker Iair Said looked at his concern about his great-aunt Flora’s apartment; he was hoping that she would leave it to him in her will, but instead she planned to donate it to the Weizmann Institute of Science.

In his 2024 debut feature-length narrative film, Most People Die on Sundays, writer-director Said stars as David, a thirtysomething man-child who who can’t find his place in a world he doesn’t know how to navigate. Inspired by the death of Said’s father, the story follows David as he returns home to Buenos Aires for the funeral of his uncle. David has been in Italy for a year studying, of all things, communication; he could not be more awkward speaking with others, be it his beloved mother, Dora (Rita Cortese), his sister, Silvia (Juliana Gattas), his cousin, Elisa (Antonia Zegers), or anybody else, from his driving instructor to his mother’s next-door neighbor to a flight attendant — to his own father, who lies in a coma at a clinic.

Queer, Jewish, and schlubby, David moves slowly, talks slowly, and thinks slowly, his face almost always in a deadpan stare, resembling Jimmy Kimmel mixed with Fatty Arbuckle. David keeps finding ways to avoid visiting his father even as the family discusses euthanasia — as well as ways to afford his uncle’s funeral and burial.

David is far from oblivious to what is happening; he just seems unable to take reasonable action, wandering through life in a kind of haze, relying on others to take care of him.

“I think I am a little sad,” he narrates as he goes through a battery of health tests. “To be back home, to have to live with my mom. . . . The house is somehow in bad shape. I feel bad for her. She is so alone. My dad’s condition is not going to change. He is practically dead. Him dying means all of us are going to die too, that everything has an ending. I can’t imagine living my life without him. If Dad remains like that for many years, my mom will not get to know anyone else, she won’t stop looking after him . . . That is a lot for her. I chose to be alone. She hasn’t.”

David might say that he chooses to be alone, but as Said shows particularly in the first and last scenes, that is actually the last thing David wants.

Most People Die on Sundays moves at the pace of David’s mind, slowly yet earnestly, with a subtle, carnivalesque score by Ascari that mimics David’s stunted emotional understanding and often pathetic, sad-sack choices. He is terrified of death, be it that of others or his own, and it haunts his thoughts. He is so desperate to be loved that he comes close to stalking several men he is attracted to. Just about the only time the family has any fun is during a Passover seder, where the wine is spoiled and David complains that the fish smells, well, like fish.

Earlier, Dora gives a doctor at the clinic some matzah, telling him, “It’s an unleavened, unsalted flatbread, but it’s tasty. If you want to be a Jew, you must know how to suffer.” The doctor asks her what happened and she answers with a dejected, downtrodden look, “My son’s back.”

David and Most People Die on Sundays are like a whole box of matzah.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]