EXCLUSIVE: Cinema Guild has acquired all U.S. distribution rights to the Lynne Sachs-directed documentary Film About a Father Who, which made its world premiere in January as the opening night film at the Slamdance Film Festival. The film is set to open at New York’s Museum of the Moving Image on January 15, 2021, alongside a retrospective of Sachs’ work. It will also be available in virtual cinemas across the country.
Over a period of 35 years between 1984 and 2019, filmmaker Sachs shot 8 and 16mm film, videotape and digital images of her father, Ira Sachs Sr., a bon vivant and pioneering businessman from Park City, Utah. Film About a Father Who is her attempt to understand the web that connects a child to her parent and a sister to her siblings.
“We’ve long been fans of Lynne Sachs’ films and are very excited to work with her on Film About a Father Who,” said Cinema Guild President Peter Kelly, “It’s a defining work from a fearless and deeply feeling filmmaker and we can’t wait to share it with audiences.”
“I am thrilled to be bringing my most personal and candid film yet to cinema audiences via such an adventurous and thought-provoking distributor as Cinema Guild,” said Sachs.
With a nod to the Cubist renderings of a face, Sachs’ cinematic exploration of her father offers simultaneous, sometimes contradictory, views of one seemingly unknowable man who is publicly the uninhibited center of the frame yet privately ensconced in secrets. With this meditation on fatherhood and masculinity, Sachs allows herself and her audience to see beneath the surface of the skin, beyond the projected reality. As the startling facts mount, she discovers more about her father than she had ever hoped to reveal.
Film About a Father Who features Ira Sachs Sr. with Lynne Sachs, Dana Sachs, Ira Sachs, Jr., Beth Evans, Evan Sachs, Adam Sachs, Annabelle Sachs, Julia Sachs and Madison Geist.
The deal was negotiated by Peter Kelly of Cinema Guild with attorney Stephen Darren Holmgren negotiating on behalf of the filmmaker.
Lynne Sachs has a resume of 35 films including Tip of My Tongue, Your Day is My Night, Investigation of a Flame, and Which Way is East. She received a 2014 Guggenheim Fellowship in the Arts. In 2019, Tender Buttons Press published Lynne’s first collection of poetry Year by Year Poems. Her recent film A Month of Single Frames won the Grand Prize at Oberhausen 2020.
Cinema Guild’s upcoming releases include Hong Sangsoo’s The Woman Who Ran, Matías Piñeiro’s Isabella and Kazik Radwanski’s Anne at 13,000 ft. The company’s recent release slate includes Wang Xiaoshuai’s Chinese Portrait, Angela Schanelec’s I Was at Home, But…, and RaMell Ross’s Oscar-nominated Hale County This Morning, This Evening.
“The Clapping” Image by Lynne Sachs Text by Didi Goldenhar 2 min., 2020
“The Clapping” evokes the inside-out of our lives in May 2020, sheltering in place during Covid-19’s first wave. In solitude, we relish nature’s symphony – shimmering rain and splish-splash of thunderstorm – while longing for the hustle-bustle of performance and more populous times.
The experimental filmmaker and emerging poet, Lynne Sachs, returns to Filmwax to discuss a free virtual event taking place this evening, Wednesday, December 2nd at 6:30 PM Pacific / 9:30 PM Eastern. Lynne will be reading from her debut collection, “Year by Year Poems”, and shares some of her recent short films. Register at www.beyondbaroque.org/calendar.html
Lynne lives with her husband, the filmmaker Mark Street, in Brooklyn and is a regular guest on the Filmwax Radio podcast.
Espaços da Intimidade is the title of the third part of the 18th edition of the festival, with a date set between December 3 and 9, and the moment with the greatest national presence.
In this 3rd part of the Festival there are names like Diogo Pereira (“A Vida em comum”), Guilherme Sousa (“O Primeiro Passo da Melomania is a Birra”) and João Pedro Amorim (“the shadows and their names”), who present his films at world premiere (the latter two are still eligible for the Fernando Lopes Award, for the first works). This moment also summons André Guiomar and Paulo Abreu who, after visiting Porto / Post / Doc, arrive in Lisbon to present “A Nossa Terra, Nosso Altar” and “O que não se se”, respectively.
December also features “This is Paris Too”, by Lech Kowalski, “Film About a Father Who”, by the North American Lynne Sachs, and “Narciso em Férias”, by Ricardo Calil and Renato Terra, where Caetano Veloso recalls his personal experience lived during the period of the Brazilian Military Dictatorship. The film will now premiere in Portugal, after being presented in September, at the Venice International Film Festival.
Between January and March, the festival welcomes in Lisbon Oleg Sentsov, Sakharov Prize for Press Freedom 2018, with the film “Numbers” and “Visions of the Empire”, by Joana Pontes (world premiere), again meets Paula Gaitán in “Luz nos Trópicos” (after the passage of “É Rocha e Rio, Negro Leo” in October), and also watches the acclaimed directors Radu Jude, Frederick Wiseman and James Benning return with the presentation of a restored copy of “ Grand Opera: An Historical Romance “.
After a packed room for the preview of “Amor Fati” by Cláudia Varejão, a film that ended the second moment of the festival, Doclisboa continues its journey with many new proposals and in permanent dialogue with the rooms so that all sessions are presented safely and in order to maintain the collective nature of the cinema experience.
Check out the December films here or check the complete program at doclisboa.org .
The Jewish Film Institute, the S.F.-based entity that wasn’t able to present its annual San Francisco Jewish Film Festival this past summer due to the pandemic, has devised a special program to mark its 40th anniversary and light up your personal screen with Jewish films for Hanukkah.
From Dec. 10 to 17, JFI will be presenting what it has deemed “eight days of illuminating programs” — including a drive-in movie in San Francisco on opening night, online screenings, a panel and an event for the anniversary.
“Audiences will come together to honor four decades of independent vision,” the JFI said in a statement. In addition to films, the event will be “a celebration that will recognize SFJFF’s enduring history, our supporters and the vibrancy of our community. So let’s raise a glass and light a candle to 40 years of bringing Jewish storytelling to light.”
Things will kick off Dec. 10 at 6 p.m. at the Fort Mason Flix pop-up drive-in with the U.S. premiere of “Howie Mandel: But, Enough About Me,” about the Canadian comedian and actor. The 88-minute film examines Mandel’s life and career, as well as his painful struggles with mental illness. A special JFI interview with Mandel and director Barry Avrich will follow the film.
Tickets are $40 per vehicle for JFI members and $45 for the public, and many Covid-19 protocols will be in effect. Off the Grid will provide food truck options, JFI said, with details to come.
The other films in the 40th anniversary Hanukkah celebration will be available for streaming throughout the festival, most of them followed by a recorded interview with the director and/or principal actor. All are either 2019 or 2020 releases. Here’s a look at the lineup:
“When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit” is a sweeping, two-hour German drama about the rise of Nazism as seen through the eyes of a 9-year-old-girl in Europe. It’s the latest from Caroline Link, director of “Nowhere in Africa,” winner of the best international feature Oscar in 2003.
“Born in Jerusalem and Still Alive” is the festival’s Next Wave Spotlight film, an Israeli comedy selected for its appeal to young adults. Co-directors David Ofek and Yossi Atia, who also stars, find an absurdist angle on the social tensions and political violence of Israel 20 to 30 years ago.
“Sublet” is a romantic drama from Israel that’s been an audience favorite at other Jewish film festivals this year. Directed by Eytan Fox, it tells the story of an American travel writer who goes to Tel Aviv and is drawn into a relationship with a young film student.
“Oliver Sacks: His Own Life,” directed by Ric Burns, explores the life and work of a legendary neurologist and storyteller who had battles with drug addiction, homophobia and the medical establishment.
“Film About a Father Who” is a documentary by Lynne Sachs, who attempts to understand child-to-parent and sibling-to-sibling connections by using interviews, home movies and archival images to probe the personality of her bon vivant father, Ira Sachs Sr., over a period of 35 years.
“A Crime on the Bayou” is a gripping documentary by Nancy Buirski that recounts the true story of a Jewish lawyer who, in 1966 New Orleans, tirelessly pursued justice for a Black teenager wrongfully accused of assault.
Also in the lineup is “Jews in Shorts,” a program of four shorter documentaries from both the U.S. and Israel.
Another free event that can be accessed online at any time during the festival is a virtual panel called “Engines of Truth.” Jewish filmmakers Amy Ziering, Bonni Cohen, Judith Helfand and Roberta Grossman will converse about how various factors — such as Jewish values, identity, culture and feminism — have figured into their groundbreaking documentaries.
The event to celebrate the SFJFF’s 40th anniversary will take place online at 6 p.m. Dec. 12, with guests and remembrances from four decades of Jewish cinema and culture, plus film clips and trailers. This event is free, with a suggested donation.
“This year has made crystal clear to us that community, art and film have the ability to bring light and hope in challenging times,” Lexi Leban, JFI’s executive director, said in a release. “We are not going anywhere and we plan to be around for the next 40 years.”
“JFI 40th Anniversary Hanukkah Celebration”
Dec. 10-17. $10-$15 per online film, $40-$70 for festival online passes. All proceeds support the ongoing work of JFI. For more information, visit jfi.org, email boxoffice@jfi.org or call (415) 621-0568 weekdays 11 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Stretched Time Maya and Noa home our two daughters in their beds again Here there all at once. Child and adult. Temporal inversions.
Inside this terrifying middle eating Mark’s slow dinners slowly Warm bread, just ripe fruit delivered by a woman with her own daughters sleeping in their own beds.
Revisiting each day of an opening act March 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 Friday the 13th Where I was intending to be and where I was.
Narrative of an unwinding. The city is ours. The city owns us. 56 days in captivity so far. My father calls it the Velcro padlock. Fear the only real authority — when to stay and when to go.
Pages I’ve read as a measure of time almonds eaten, cleaning surfaces cleaning again bleach and more bleach again
Masks – to wear or not to wear? to protect me. to protect you. Anger at T. Anger at the mayor.
Watching “Tiger King” and flattening the curve social distancing and comorbidity Pod and PPE Fauci and Floyd.
Before I would walk from A – call it home – to B then to C and D all the way to Z. Stop and stop again in a zig back in a zag a diagonal a curve I used my feet road on elevators shook hands hugged. You too remember the long ago here.
We imbibe together. Family Zooms. Passover in four different states. With Mom, sister Dana, brother Ira, with everyone but without No with in space, only time.
Moving my body at home bra becomes braless.
Hospitals with others. Hospitals without beds. Hospitals with 1000s of beds, all full. Fear of going in with you. With me inside.
Ruthless flossing.
Fighting about something that happened six years ago. Caring about everything knowing that only one thing matters. Dreaming like a film. A film like a dream. 76 days in captivity and counting.
Going for a walk with a friend but without her. Talking like a crazy person and wondering if I am. Being with being there. Being here only. Not knowing where you’re here is. Forgetting my mask and feeling ashamed. Running home. Looking a stranger in the face saying hello loudly droplets on my glasses the fog of it all.
Hand sanitizer So raw it hurts. No need for more. No where to go.
Needing to imagine NYC as it is as it was even while I am here. People worrying about me.
Singing “Happy Birthday” twice under warm water.
Delivering food to a 65-year old friend I thought would starve. Delivering food to a 90-year old friend who later died. Our time together counting and recounting the seconds I was in his house, dreaded time, minutes or seconds count and recount. He went to the hospital and never came home, two months alone Jim died of loneliness at least in my mind.
People of color become surrogate shoppers.
Andrew Cuomo reading mortality and hospital statistics every day at 11:30 am. Giving $50 tip to our UPS delivery person, Edison. Feeling good About me.
Hearing from a crazy old boyfriend who is worried about me. Stop.
7 PM noise parties celebrating the workers, the frontliners the ones who took the risks We whistle and hoot from deep within our mouths 60 seconds of anger and anxiety in unison with our neighbors then we four turn around, 180 degrees sit together for a meal Talk of our day as if something and nothing can happen all at once.
I don’t miss a meal made in a kitchen I can’t see. Nothing tastes good in a plastic box. How I relish Mark’s food savory and sweet made hot just a few feet from our cat’s breakfast and her day-old bowl of water. Part of our hermetic now. Part of our daunting.
Looking for a place to pee I rush home from Greenwood cemetery preferring not to die there.
Saturday August 15 Our pod fragments – Abandoned artificial routines. I listen for the echo from April and May. Strange longing for the solitude and the ache.
Less and less in the weather more weathered more aware of the weather Spinning umbrella-less in the rain.
In a city on a lockdown, doors never locked. Nowhere to walk And yet walking every day to somewhere not far from here. In circles that resemble city blocks. Tethered by the distance it takes to run home.
Nothing grows so fast so boldly as the Morning Glory vine these late summer days. I weave its wayward shoots through the bars of our old wrought iron fence. Wrought.
Q&A with Miguel Ribeiro co-director of Doclisboa and “Film About a Father Who” editor Rebecca Shapass in anticipation of the film’s Portuguese premiere.
Here we give an introduction to their upcoming screening of my film in a real theater in a program titled “The Space of Intimacy” Dec. 3-9th.
Interview with Lynne Sachs, filmmaker of Film About a Father Who, presented in the section Seeking Communities (November 12-18)
You started shooting some of the material in the film some thirty years ago. Did you know at the time you wanted to make a film about your father? Why did you need three decades to achieve what you were looking for?
By the early 1990s, I decided that I would keep one foot in documentary and the other in experimental film. Deeply moved by critical and theoretical writings on reality-based filmmaking, I realized that I needed to invert the field’s tendency to look at others’ lives by turning the camera on myself. With this personal challenge in mind, I decided to shoot a film with and about my father. At the time, I was equal parts fascinated and confused by the free-spirited, iconoclastic, often secretive life that he led. When I told him that I was making a film about him, he seemed intrigued, and off we went. But the “production” was not an easy one. I stopped and started every year. When you are holding a camera, you sometimes see more than you bargain for.
How did your father, and the rest of the family, feel about the project?
It’s funny. I think that being the “star” of a movie these days comes with a kind of allure. My dad always seemed to enjoy his place in front of my camera. He got so into the idea of making a movie with me that he would say Hollywood things like “Lynne, hurry up, we’re losing light!” Clearly, we live in such an image-dominated society that people are more and aware of how they present themselves. It’s in the realm of sound, specifically voice, then, where I think you can find the most intimacy, candor and insight. As you can see in my film, my father was very controlled in terms of what he would say or, probably more accurately, what he could say about his feelings. Maybe that’s generational, common for men of his age. I hate to make these kinds of gendered observations. In terms of working with my eight siblings on this film, I discovered that keeping my camera off, and sitting with each one alone, in total darkness with my microphone and audio recorder was extraordinarily generative. A film director’s eyes function like a mirror for the people in front of the camera – whether they are subjects in a documentary or actors in a narrative. Having the lights out was key to taking my film to a deeper place.
Your footage comes from a variety of media (film, video, digital), but you manage to bring them all together in an aesthetically successful way. Was it a challenge?
Unlike painters, filmmakers need to adapt to constantly changing technologies. For me, there are some constants. I’ve been using the same wind-up Bolex 16mm silent film camera since 1987 but the video cameras I use change pretty much every two years, from VHS to Hi8 to MinDV to high-definition digital to cell phone. Thus, my film is a kind of archeological document of the changing field. The screen image reflects the times, both in terms of context and texture. But unlike the technology, we as subjects remain the same, only we get older, all of us at the same rate, day by day. I decided to edit the film with Rebecca Shapass, a wonderful artist and filmmaker who was a student of mine just a few years ago. Together in my studio, we watched the skin of the film and the skin of our bodies change over three decades. This process was extremely difficult for me, both personally and aesthetically. But, it was so important to share the stories in the film with someone who could have a distance from our story, and who clearly was not going to be judgemental. In addition, Rebecca, who is in her mid-twenties, was able to see the beauty in the older footage and to appreciate the refreshing non-digital wrinkles. We spent the first year editing 12 discrete experimental films that had their own interior shape and structure. We spent the second year pulling these apart and reconstructing them into a single feature-length film.
Your look on your father is very lucid but never judgmental, which I think is a great strength of the film. Was that a difficult balance to strike?
You’ve asked a key question by pointing to the daunting, interior challenge that both nourished my process and stopped me in my tracks. I needed to find a place in my narration for the film that could candidly articulate my rage and my forgiveness. Some cuts went too much in one direction, some in the other. I finished my film during a time in our culture when so many women are reckoning with who they are in relationship to the men in their lives. Our personal investigations necessitate finding a strategy where we can do so many things at once – resist a self-imposed artificial amnesia, be true to our own stories, and go forward.
You may still ignore who your father really is, but what did you learn about family through making this film?
Frankly, I have learned so much about the imprint of family on all of us from audiences who
have watched Film About a Father Who. Despite the fact that I have only interacted with people in real theaters three times since its premiere, more people have written to me (through my website lynnesachs.com) after watching this film than ever before. Virtual screenings, Q and A’s and these email responses are simply part of our lives these days, and the result is that viewers are watching films and seeking out ways to engage one-on-one with their makers. It’s really been extraordinary. To my surprise, I have heard from almost as many men as women, and in each case people are writing to me about the way that my film somehow offers them a way to think about the imprint that their parents have had on them as children and later as adults. This, in and of itself, is more important to me than the fact that they have “learned” something about me or my family. My intention was not to make an exposé but rather a visual essay, a 74-minute cinema experience that ultimately made people think about their own lives and relationships.
What was it like premiering the film at Slamdance, in Park City, where your father lives? It was also one of the last “live festivals” before the pandemic!
Ok, so I am going to tell you a behind-the-scenes story. In December of 2019, Paul Rachman, one of the founders and directors of Slamdance, called me from his car in Los Angeles. He told me that my film had not only been accepted to the festival but that they wanted it to be their Opening Night feature. At first, I was thrilled, but quickly my emotions shifted to fear and worry, for exactly the reasons you mentioned. Paul spent the next few days convincing me that Slamdance would be an exciting and supportive place for my World Premiere. He could not have been more correct. Hundreds of people came to the two scheduled screenings. There was so much interest in the film, they added a third show. More important than the number of people, however, was the special mix in the audience: local family friends, Sundance folks, cinephiles who come to Park City every year, film critics, and festival directors. Of course, I had deep face-to-face conversations with people who had known my father for decades but still discovered new, probably shocking, aspects to his complicated personal life. I also got the chance to talk to film writers, podcasters, and feminist bloggers. My father, who is now 84 and spends the winter in a warmer place, flew to NYC for the second screening of the film in the Museum of Modern Art’s Documentary Fortnight. He has expressed subtle regret at the pain some of his life choices have caused, but this was the life he chose, and he owns it.
Anything else?
I wish I were planning to come to Montreal by car or plane in a few weeks. The only time I have ever been to the city was for Expo ’67, when I was six years old. I was so enthralled by the exhibits, particularly the Telephone Pavilion which featured a 360-degree film screen that surrounded viewers. I just looked up this building and discovered that it was designed by Saskatchewan-born woman architect Dorice Brown. Very cool, especially for that time. I should also add that I got lost at the Expo for an entire day. My parents eventually found me at the police station. Somehow, I did not know I was lost, until they showed up with very relieved faces.
The 2020 Film and Video Poetry Symposium will take place in Los Angeles, California beginning on November 12th and concluding January 2, 2021. FVPS has programmed over 100 films from more than 20 countries, 80 of which will be presented in an outdoor cinema. Our platform has also curated 5 media installations that will be available to the public on an appointment only basis. Lastly, The Film and Video Poetry Society developed and will deploy a 24/7 online streaming network accessible on our website beginning November 12, 2020 and ending December 31, 2020. Through this live video feed viewers will experience a special selection of films programmed for an international online screening experience.
We have pledged to uphold the cinema experience while also making safety and public health our primary goal. There will be no public or walk up access to our events. Entrance to screenings must be confirmed by reservation only.