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A Q&A with “SEMANA SANTA” director Alejandra Márquez Abella

Entrevista en español abajo.

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Your film screened at the Discovery section of Toronto last year and was very well received. You are there now while your film is opening in Mexico (and at the Roxie). What you are doing there this year?

I’m at the Talent Lab this year with a new project i’m writing. I love TIFF is amazing to be here again.

What inspire you to write and make Semana Santa? How personal is the film?

I wanted to talk about new families, weird families versus the traditional model, the need we have to interpret conventional roles, men and women. I also wanted to make a film with the sweet and sour feeling that to me, vacations have. I had a big loss when I was a child so I can relate with Pepino and his vibe, that’s my personal spice to the film.

How did you assemble the team to make the film and start working with Pimienta Films?

Nicolás Celis and me met after several producer friends told us to, haha, it was a kind of blind date. Everyone thought that my script was great for him. He actually liked it so we decided to work together. We raised the money (not much) very quickly and decided to do a small film. I’m very thankful to Nico, Sebastián and all their team. They are the most honest wornderful people to work with.

The casting is perfect. Tell us a bit abou how you got the main cast interested in the project, and how was it to work with such a variety of actors (level of experience, age, etc..)

Thank you! Anajosé is my husband´s best friend and now of course my dear friend, I love everything about her, she has an amazing energy. I always thought of giving this role to her when I was writing. We both are obsessed with naturalistic acting so it happened quite organically. With Tenoch it was different, I’ve seen his work, he’s an experimented actor, I love his sense of humor and his voice (I always say this and I don’t really know why it’s so important to me…) Also, when we started talking about Chavez, he understood perfectly the kind of guy I wanted to portray, a man very concerned about being recognized and loved. And he is a wonderful actor, very aware of the light, the camera. Esteban came after a long process of casting kids. I didn’ want a kid actor so I started searching in schools, but I couldn’t find anyone able to be in camera (imagine on set!) so I started casting young actors (and hateeeeed all), then Esteban came, he is a ranchera’s singer so he had a notion of stage, he could stand the camera, the attention, the pressure. He’s from Guadalajara, very macho, very adult like. I loved him immediately as one of my ideas was to make the characters change roles, the adults to behave as kids and viceversa.

We hear music from Los Planetas in the film. Are you a fan? Did they write a song for the film? How did that happened?

I’m a huge fan, maybe because I studied film in Spain. I needed to introduce a band in the film, a band that Dali liked, a band or song from her past and I decided to try Santos que yo te pinte because that’s my favorite, I thought that would give me a connection with her and the film forever, that it would fuel me, and it did. I got the chance of meeting with Jota (band leader) and making the request, he agreed (not very enthusiastically) a year later we met again and he said (ore enthusiastically) they would record this new version for the film so that I could pay less money for the rights (!!!) So, I got to hang out with my idols, get my favorite song on my first feature. I remember thinking.. well this was worth it even if the film is a huge failure.

Semana Santa is your first feature film. Are you planning on doing more fiction?  What’s next?

Yes, fiction always. I’m trying to finish my latest script.

Who are your influences?

Lucrecia Martel, Alexander Payne, Ruben Ostlund.

The number of films made by women is increasing most everywhere, including Mexico. How is it for you to be a woman filmmaker? Is there anything in particular you would like to see happening to keep increasing that number? and what words of advice do you have for other aspiring filmmakers?

I think we’re living a time where there are more women but we are being segregated thematically. I believe feminine/feminist stories are still not valued as much as masculine plots.

I’ve never felt that I couldn’t do or be something because I’m a woman, I think we should just keep doing stuff and try to change the culture that (only) praises masculinity.

Note: This interview was published in conjunction with our week-long run of SEMANA SANTA in September 2016. Event details here.


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Su película se proyectó en la sección Descubrimiento de Toronto el año pasado y fue muy bien recibida. Usted está allí ahora, mientras que su película se estrena en México (y en el Roxie). Qué está haciendo allí este año?
Estoy en el Laboratorio de talentos de este año con un nuevo proyecto que estoy escribiendo. Me encanta TIFF, es increíble estar aquí de nuevo.

Qué le inspiró para escribir y hacer Semana Santa? ¿Cómo de personal es la película?
Yo quería hablar de nuevas familias, familias extrañas frente al modelo tradicional, la necesidad que tenemos de interpretar roles convencionales, de los hombres y las mujeres. También quería hacer una película con la sensación agridulce que para mí, las vacaciones tienen. Tuve una gran pérdida cuando era una niña, así que puedo verme reflejada en Pepino y su ambiente, eso es mi toque personal en la película.

¿Cómo montaste el equipo para hacer la película y empezaste a trabajar con Pimienta Films?
Nicolás Celis y yo nos conocimos después de que varios productores amigos nos dijeron que debíamos conocernos, ja,ja, fue una especie de cita a ciegas. Todo el mundo pensaba que mi guión era perfecto para él. En realidad le gustó tanto que decidimos trabajar juntos. Conseguimos dinero (no mucho) muy rápidamente y decidimos hacer una pequeña película. Estoy muy agradecida a Nico, Sebastián y todo su equipo. Son las personas mas maravillosas y honestas con las que trabajar.

El casting es perfecto. Cuéntanos un poco cómo conseguiste al reparto principal, y cómo fue trabajar con una variedad de actores, (nivel de experiencia, edad, etc ..)
¡Gracias! Anajosé es la mejor amiga de mi marido y ahora, por supuesto, mi querida amiga. Me encanta ella, tiene una energía increíble. Siempre pensé en darle este papel a ella cuando estaba escribiendo. Las dos nos obsesionamos con la actuación naturalista por lo que pasó bastante orgánicamente. Con Tenoch fue diferente, he visto su trabajo, él es un actor experimentado, me encanta su sentido del humor y su voz (siempre digo esto y no se sabe muy bien por qué es tan importante para mí …) También , cuando comenzamos a hablar de Chávez, el entendía perfectamente el tipo de persona que quería retratar, un hombre muy preocupado por ser reconocido y amado. Y él es un actor maravilloso, muy consciente de la luz, la cámara. Esteban llegó después de un largo proceso de casting de niños. Yo no quería un actor niño por lo que comenzamos a buscar en las escuelas, pero no pudimos encontrar a nadie capaz de estar frente a la cámara (imagínate en el set!), Así que comenzó la selección de actores jóvenes (y odiaba a todos), entonces, llegó Esteban, que es el cantante de rancheras por lo que tenía una noción del escenario, la cámara, la atención, la presión. Él es de Guadalajara, muy macho, muy adulto. Me gustó inmediatamente porque una de mis ideas era hacer que los personajes cambian los papeles, los adultos se comporten como niños y viceversa.

Escuchamos música de Los Planetas en la película. ¿Eres una fan? ¿Escribieron una canción para la película? ¿Cómo los conseguiste?
Soy un gran fan, tal vez porque estudié cine en España. Necesitaba introducir una banda en la película, una banda que a Dalí le gustara, una banda o una canción de su pasado y decidí probar Santos Que Yo te pinte porque esa es mi favorita. Pensé que me daría una conexión con ella y el rodaje para siempre, que me alimentaría, y lo hizo. Tuve la oportunidad de reunirme con Jota (líder de la banda) y proponerle la idea. El estuvo de acuerdo (pero no con mucho entusiasmo) Un año más tarde nos encontramos de nuevo y nos dijo (con mucho entusiasmo) que grabaría una nueva versión para la película de manera que pude pagar menos dinero por los derechos (!!!) por lo tanto, pude pasar el rato con mis ídolos, y conseguí mi canción favorita en mi primera película. Recuerdo que pensé, bueno esto valió la pena, incluso si la película es un gran fracaso.

Semana Santa es su primer largometraje. ¿Está pensando en hacer más ficción?

Sí, siempre ficción. Estoy tratando de terminar mi último guión.

¿Cuáles son sus influencias?

Lucrecia Martel, Alexander Payne, Ruben Ostlund.

El número de películas realizadas por mujeres está aumentando en todas partes, incluyendo México. ¿Cómo es para usted ser una directora de cine?¿Hay algo en particular que le gustaría ver que suceda para seguir aumentando ese número? y qué palabras de consejo tiene para otras aspirantes a cineastas?
Creo que estamos viviendo un momento en que hay más mujeres, pero estamos siendo segregadas por temas. Creo que las historias femeninas / feministas todavía no se valoran tanto como las masculinas.

Nunca sentí que no podía hacer o ser algo porque soy una mujer, creo que deberíamos seguir haciendo cosas y tratar de cambiar la cultura que (sólo) elogia la masculinidad.

Nota: Esta entrevista fue publicada en conjunto con nuestra exhibición de Semana Santa en septiembre de 2016. Detalles del evento aquí.

 

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A Q&A with “Entertainment” Actor/Comedian Gregg Turkington

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Let’s start with a fact: Gregg Turkington, on the whole, does not enjoy doing interviews. There are innumerable reasons for his position on talking to the press, but it boils down to transparency. In elaborately creating Neil Hamburger — the fictitious stand-up comedian who delivers alternately insufferable and ingenious jokes — Turkington wishes to keep the mystery intact. Fair enough. However, in talking with Turkington about Entertainment, his first feature film, he was open about his upbringing and where his head was at while creating this abrasive, sonically assaultive comedian. There’s no clear explanation for who or what Hamburger is, and there probably never will be. That said, what follows is a candid conversation with the man as he touches on everything from “dark periods” in his life to how much he hates the Star Wars franchise. – Sam Fragoso, Director of Programming

Are you going to be doing this interview in character?

I do them all as Gregg now. I used to do them in character, but when the movie came out, it was problematic to be promoting as Neil Hamburger, in character, since the character in the movie isn’t even exactly Neil Hamburger, you know what I mean? When I was just doing the live shows, I would do things in character, and really, that’s what I would have preferred. I was never really so hot on talking about this stuff. But, you know, it’s pretty exciting to have a feature film out. It’s worth making adjustments.

Do you think making those adjustments compromises the artistic integrity of things you’ve done in the past?

That’s what I always felt, but since I started doing this, it’s actually been fine. I thought it would be more problematic than it turned out to be. And it’s just what people are interested in — they were never able to get any information about this. And I liked that. I didn’t feel like they were entitled to that information, but they seem to enjoy it, and it doesn’t seem to have diminished things like I thought it might. It’s been okay. Part of it has been that I don’t read any of the interviews that I do, because I think if I did read them, I might feel horrible about having done any interviews out of character.

“Entitled” is an interesting thing, because we do live in an age where privacy is nonexistent, and everyone seems to think that they are entitled to know everything about the people and things they like.

I think it’s horrible, because when I was a kid, the stuff that I would be interested in, I would go down to the library and go through microfiche and really spend a lot of time finding out every little piece of information, and there were so many things that interested me that were so mysterious. With no Internet back in the day, you really did have to pore through old magazine issues, do all kinds of the weird independent research to find stuff. And now, people are like, Oh, this really obscure thing is good. One click on the computer, and they download this person’s entire back catalog. Some director made a movie that would have normally taken you 15 years to be able to see, and now it takes you 15 seconds.

I subscribe to the theory that nothing of value ever comes easy, and yet most films can be found on Netflix or Amazon Prime, which takes no effort.

I’m not saying it should be more impossible, but I think sometimes people don’t have as much commitment to things. Like something that you’ve tracked down for 15 years, you’re probably really going to pay attention to it now that you’ve found it; whereas, in just 15 seconds downloading it, after having heard about it, you’re more likely to watch 10 minutes of it and turn it off. It’s definitely that way with music. I remember buying records I didn’t like, but listening to them 15 times trying to get into it, trying to figure out what’s going on there. And now, people delete mp3s in five seconds if it doesn’t grab them. I enjoyed that kind of mystery that I was trying to solve, and I enjoyed that process of trying to figure out where these people were coming from with the art they were making, and sometimes never really understanding it. And so, for me, it’s almost disappointing reading interviews with people where they explain away what they were doing, because I let people interpret things their own way and not having it fed to them.

That’s true. So let’s not explain away. You were born in Australia?

Yes, I was.

Tell me about that.

Well, my parents, they grew up in Los Angeles and they got married in Kentucky and they decided to travel around the world, and they got on a freighter ship that had a few rooms available, and took that to Australia, and got there and decided to stay a few months. And then they ended up eventually moving out to the outback, out to the northern territory of Australia, towards Darwin and settling down there. They were living in essentially what they call a caravan park there, which is what we could call a trailer park. But they were living in a tiny shack in the middle of the outback, where it was super-humid and hot, and they just ended up staying there. After a few months of trying to deal with an infant in a shack, with no air conditioning or running water, my mother just said, Fuck this, let’s get the hell out of here. So they came back to America.

Where did you grow up?

I grew up in LA and San Francisco and Phoenix.

LA remains a mystery to me.

I probably spent more of my childhood in the Phoenix area, but I did live here for several years as a kid. I feel most at home here [LA]. It’s a really misunderstood town. Where I live, I can walk everywhere. I got a couple movie theaters, restaurants, health food stores, all kinds of things. I can walk to Griffiths Park. It’s a wilderness; we got coyotes, deer, and skunks and things flocking down on our driveway.

Coyotes are a selling point?

[Laughs] No, I’m just trying to tell you that I think people say that LA is just a bunch of traffic and a bunch of Paris Hilton-type people, and these are things that I’m not really dealing with here. And it’s a big-enough place with so many different areas to it that I think especially people that visit a couple times and stay in a shitty place like near the Sunset Strip, like Hollywood or West Hollywood, places I try to avoid, it might seem like an unlivable hell hole.

I know that Neil Hamburger originated in LA, but when?

Well, it started as a character on a prank phone-call record in 1992.

And you were 25 then?

Something like that. But it didn’t start as a live character. There were several albums out. It was a recording project, essentially, and actually, Trey Spruance, from Secret Chiefs 3, worked with me on those early records, because they were all studio things. And, you know, it took till 1999 before I decided to do it as a live show, and that was something I was reluctant to do, because I liked it as a recording project, and I liked controlling the audience response on the record. I just thought live would be a whole other receptive crowd, rather than the fictionalized disaster crowds that we had on the records.

What brought you to that point in the early ’90s, when you were creating that character?

The thing with it is, it was never something where I sat down and said, All right, so this is the character, and these are his traits, and this is the backstory.

Were you interested in doing characters for comedy in high school?

I was interested in doing characters and things right after high school, when I moved to San Francisco. When I was living in San Francisco and I was in bands around town…a lot of them were bands where they were character-based, almost conceptual-type projects that involved characters. When I did these things, I didn’t sit down and sketch it out and write it like that. It was more like, “This would be funny.” And then each time you do it, the more details come out, and you improvise the specifics of the character through performances. Like with the Neil Hamburger character: I’ve been doing that for so many years, and there are things that have changed. If you look back at the record Great Phone Calls Featuring Neil Hamburger from 1993, it’s really different from one from 2013. It’s more an intuitive process, and naturally mutates based on things I’m interested in or offended by, or that I would relate to at any given point in time, and how those things end up incorporated into the character as you go along—which is true of anything, really. A Pink Floyd record form 1967 bears no resemblance from one the early ’80s, but it wasn’t like the whole thing was by design. That’s how I feel with this. There were lots that came out during a show—something came out of my mouth, and it was perfect for this character, and then it would be added.

Would you say there is a through line of self-loathing in this character?

Yeah, I think the character definitely has self-loathing.

Is that a reflection of how you’ve felt throughout building this character?

I’m not really a self-loathing person, but I mean, we’ve all had real black periods in our lives that were wretched, where there was a lot of self-loathing, and there was bleak, black depression. Those kinds of periods of your life make a real impression, and you do everything you can to avoid going through a period like that in your life again. I would say, any kind of darkness to the character probably came from some personal experience. It’s not especially like the movie Entertainment. The off-stage comedian is not really what I’m like.

Given our past dialogue, that doesn’t surprise me. You seem calm. But in the beginning of all this, was the character born after one of those dark periods?

I mean, what does Marvin Gaye say? “We’re all sensitive people.” I’m sensitive to a lot of different things, and I’ve definitely had bleak periods of my life. A lot of times, art has to do with that. One of my idols is Leonard Cohen. Flipper was something that was a big part of my life. These are artists that deal with dark days and pessimism, things I’ve always been interested in — failure and disintegration. When great bands or great artists make really horrible records, I seek those records out. I’m like, Wow, what happened? Who sold out really hard? It’s unfathomable to me how some of these people can go so off course, and that’s always interesting to me. And maybe it’s not the most positive type of interest.

You’re someone who enjoys the autopsy.

It’s funny you should say that, because I have a game that I play on tour with whomever is opening for me (and is unfortunate enough to be in the car for one of these trips) called “Album Autopsy,” where you go out to a record store and find an album by a group that everyone knows, but it’s an album that nobody knows, that has no hits on it because it’s really late in the game. These tend to be best when they’re late-’80s, early-’90s by groups that had hits in the ’60s or ’70s. Or even, you get the eighth album by Huey Lewis and the News, whatever. Or a Bob Seeger album from 1998, stuff like that. And then you just listen to it over and over and over again. And the first time, you’re just appalled. Why would these guys do this? This doesn’t sound like something anyone would want. These songs are terrible, and it sounds like they’ve got these gaited drums, not this slick ’80s shit, and it doesn’t sound anything like this band everyone knows and loves. And then you listen to it a second time and start to find a couple songs catchy, even though you find them loathsome. And then by the fifth or sixth time, suddenly you’re actually in the mindset of the people that made the record and understanding how they felt that this was a worthwhile part of their catalogue. It’s kind of like Stockholm syndrome, where you repeat these horrible records over and over until you can understand what the mood might have been like when they were making them. You can really tap into what they were doing.

Except, unlike Stockholm Syndrome, you’re choosing to endure these albums. It’s almost masochistic.

Where do you think that interest in failure comes from?

I’m interested, especially in music, just in honest expression, and sometimes people’s worst stuff can actually be a great representation of what they’re really all about. There’s a lot to be learned from it when you get past the “is this good or is this bad?” It’s the same reason people like The Room, the Tommy Wiseau film. On the one hand, you can say, This is terrible. But on the other hand, I’ve watched it 25 times, and it’s very watchable and very interesting, and every time I watch it, I finish it thinking about all of these different issues, and it’s really engaging. So I would say, it’s not bad. I would say what is bad is The Phantom Menace. Seriously, you can’t get through a film like that. Honestly, I don’t really care for any of those movies. To me they’re super boring.

All of Star Wars?

Yeah, I don’t like those films; they’re just not my thing. I just prefer some sort of personal expression, whether or not it completely succeeds or not. You’re trying to understand what someone’s trying to do, and it’s just more interesting to me than a bunch of CGI. Just succeeding in this kind of bland entertainment, that’s harmless enough, but it’s not really compelling, to me.

You’re allowed to have an opinion!

I get that most people would watch Entertainment and hate it and sit there seething, but that’s how I would feel if I went to see Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland. I would be more enraged sitting there than they would be sitting watching my film—but the thing is, there would be more people that would be happy with Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland. So I think they should just deal with it, because I’m dealing with it all the time. I mean, the majority of movies that I see would probably put me in a pretty bad mood—and then people see this and say, That put me in a bad mood, how dare you! Because they could probably sit and watch a 100 movies and enjoy 95 of them.

You’re making everyone else suffer the way sometimes you suffer.

Well, I’m not trying to make them suffer; I’m trying to make [something for] the people that might enjoy things the way I enjoy them, and provide some entertainment to them. They’re in the minority and might not be catered for as much, so it’s more exciting for them. And I don’t know who those people are. It’s not a snobbery thing, where I’m like, People into good movies like this and people into bad movies like that. It’s more just a peculiar taste thing, where you might find something like this interesting. I certainly get a lot of feedback from people that say, Where’s the plot, asshole?

Has anyone come up to you in person after the movie and said that?

When people are criticizing stuff, they’ve got the shadows of the internet to do it, so they’re probably less likely to say something to your face, but more likely to get on their stinking computer, as Frank Sinatra Jr. calls them, and complain to you that way. I didn’t complain to George Lucas when I went to see The Phantom Menace. I didn’t write him a letter. But, you know, they will write letters to me, and that’s fine.

If you saw Lucas after your screening just in line to buy some popcorn, would you approach him?

No. I accept that there are certain kinds of meals that you get that you don’t like, but the restaurant is still in business. I certainly would as Neil Hamburger. As the character, it’s a great opportunity to be able to complain about things I dislike. But generally, if I go to see a movie and I don’t like it, I’m just going to leave before it’s over. I’ve ordered a meal before and had a couple bites from it and put down the money, and walked out. Better than keep eating it.

So is Neil Hamburger your way of being maybe your angrier self?

No, but it’s certainly been healthy to have an outlet to express yourself. There are things that are offensive in this day and age—when you’re looking at music and some of these other things, it feels like an assault, and it’s nice to be able to respond to those publicly. I go into Albertsons, or Bonds, or Safeway, or one of these stores and this fucking music is blaring when I’m just trying to buy some groceries.

What music?

Just shitty, horrible music. Maroon 5 or something is playing. And it’s like, I really don’t like this, and I bet you most people in the store really don’t like this, but the people that do like it control the airwaves, and there it is for you to listen to, whether you want to or not. And then you go and try to pump gas at Arco, and they have a screen there running clips from Jimmy Fallon.

I was just about to mention that!

Yeah! I didn’t ask for this. I’m just pumping gas; I do not need my mind to be distracted with shitty entertainment every second of the day. Just let me spend the one minute pumping gas without having to watch one of these fucking clips. If I wanted to see these fucking clips, I’d tune in. It’s an attack on your ability to just live your life. When you’re standing outside of the gas station, fucking music blaring from the speakers, they’ve got the things on the TV screens, and when you go in, there’s more of it—just a nonstop barrage of this shit. And it’s nice to have a character to address some of this stuff—some of this stuff that annoys you the most, that feels like a plague right in your heart. It’s nice to go up and make a mean joke about some of this stuff and try to even things out a little bit.

Is life just an attack on you?

Nah. Getting gas is at Arco, at least. And I think Chevron is getting into it, too. You have to create your own world and surround yourself with the stuff you like and the people that you care about and find interesting. You don’t want to go down the road hating this stuff all the time, which is why it’s nice to have the character, maybe, as a way to get all that out in one good burst. Kind of like throwing up a bad meal.

Note: This interview was published in conjunction with our two-night only event for ENTERTAINMENT, Gregg Turkington, and Secret Chiefs 3. Event details here.

A look into the archives: musings on a lost era

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What did the Roxie play during ‘the most wonderful time of the year,’ circa 1978? Why, a cornucopia of films, that’s what! We got a little bit of Herzog, a little bit of John Waters, a little Bogart and a little Travolta. Wait, do I see the Edith Beales in there too? Dang. 1978: not a bad

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35 years ago on this day exactly  the Roxie screened the interesting double bill of PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG MAN with NEXT STOP, GREENWICH VILLAGE.

NEXT STOP, GREENWICH VILLAGE is a film that was made in the 70’s about an entertainer in Greenwich Village  in the 50’s which would be an interesting comparison with the the new Coen Brother’s movie INSIDE LLEWYN DAVIS, this season’s buzz film about a singer stomping around the Village in the 60’s.  The New York Times wrote a bit about the difficulties of  recreating  “a New York that most New Yorkers thought was gone for good”   as the film’s cinematographer, Bruno Delbonnel, answers the question of how to “exhume the New York of back then from under the archaeological gloss of New York, circa now.”  It’s certainly commendable to see Delbonnel skew today’s common practice of CGI and aftereffects for the more daunting duty of shooting on location, avoiding post production digital clean up and enhancing the film’s authenticity. But as Delbonnel laments on the often tragic task of turning a now commodified tourist trap back into the bohemian hub bub it once was, we have to wonder how soon before the in-camera practices of filmmakers like the Coen brothers are rendered all but physically impossible for films recreating a world but only a few decades old.

 

On this day, what did the Roxie play….?

november collageHappy Thanksgiving, everyone! Did you know that the Roxie keeps her doors open on turkey day? That’s right! For all you nuts who like to spend a few hours in a dark room digesting gravy, the Roxie’s been a reliable host. Straight from the film archives: in the year 1983 we screened Robert Altman’s BREWSTER McLOUD and McCABE AND MRS. MILLER. Five years prior we celebrated with RUDE BOY and AMERICAN HOT WAX.  Talk about some great double turkey bills!

Meet your friendly Roxie Archivist!

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Katherine Jardine:  Roxie Theater Staff slash  cinema Archivist.  She’s a current MLIS student working off grad school credits by digging through cabinets crammed with old film calendars before sorting, scanning and creating a searchable database of every film and event that has graced the screen and stage of our theatre since 1975. Hot dog! Check out her posts on Roxie peeks into the past.