Gregg's report from Toronto International Film Festival
Hi All,
Here's my report on the world premiere of BRAND UPON THE BRAIN! at the
31st Toronto International Film Festival.
Megan and I took the red-eye Wednesday night, arrived at our hotel on
Thursday, and were immediately immersed in the business side of
filmmaking. Buyers, sellers, publicists, exhibitors, and press
everywhere. The occasional star shooting by, surrounded by lesser
lights.
We went to the first rehearsal of the orchestra for "Brand upon the
Brain;" eleven members of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra, a boy
soprano, and our narrator Louis Negin, under the direction of our own
Jason Staczek. The musicians had never seen even a note of Jason's
intricate, beautiful score, yet from the first downbeat it sounded
well-nigh perfect. My mouth dropped open, Guy smiled, and Jason
breathed a sigh of relief. We were in good hands.
The next day was a difficult one, trying to put the orchestra, singer,
foley artists, and castrato together into a seamless show in 5 hours.
The dress rehearsal was a calamity, with the sound loud and soft in
all the wrong places, and people traipsing in and out of the theater
throughout (at one point, 14 publicists, no exaggeration, from the new
Will Ferrell movie came through en masse to inspect the seating
arrangements). We decided to work through until 6, thus opening the
house a half hour late. Hilariously, we had to make all our changes
while "Borat" played on the big screen, because the projector had
broken down the night before during its premiere screening, and
20th-Century Fox then insisted that the film's producer be allowed to
sit and watch the entire film before the next screening, as if that
would somehow prevent the projector from breaking down again.
As Guy and Maya walked the red carpet into the beautiful Elgin Theater
(with fans shouting at them, as Guy said later, "who are you?"), I
kept repeating the theater mantra "bad dress, good opening, bad dress,
good opening." We began 45 minutes late, but the capacity crowd of
1500, tickled perhaps at the site of the three foley artists in white
lab coats and bowties, surrounded by all kinds of strange
noise-producers, seemed in good spirits. Guy made a nice introduction
of all the live elements, the TIFF trailers played, and suddenly,
there was our film on screen, looking gorgeous!…and started up 30
seconds past the beginning. Jason couldn't cue the orchestra, and
shouted "Can we please begin again? Please?" And so we did. This
time cued up correctly—everyone clapped when they saw The Film Company
logo. Once again the images were gorgeous, the music sounded
glorious…and Louis' microphone was dead. He shouted his lines as loud
as he could while the now much hated union technicians scrambled to
fix the problem. At last they did: Louis could be heard loud and
clear, applause once more, followed by a big laugh at something
onscreen, and it was time to relax and enjoy the movie. And indeed,
after only about 30 minutes of furious nail-biting and pacing, I told
myself to relax dammit and enjoy the movie. I tiptoed to a spot in the
balcony, and was just beginning to relax and enjoy the movie when
Louis said his next line quite late, which is a hard thing to do when
it pops up on your monitor at just the right time to say it. I cursed
him and all actors, relaxed again, and he did it again. This time I
cursed the gods for their rotten sense of humor, ran downstairs, found
Guy and told him that Louis' monitor must have frozen, and that he
should sit in the loge next to Louis and poke him in just the right
place, at just the right moments. Which he did, heroically.
And so the film went off without a hitch, everyone took their
well-deserved bows, and we were an overnight success. Which, in the
festival world, means that overnight everyone forgets you and moves on
to the Next Big Thing. But we were blessed with great reviews
("breathtaking, perverse, delirious, funny and mystifying,"--the
Toronto Star, though Jamie thinks the quote we should print on the
poster is: "High upside potential!"--Screen International) and great
word of mouth, virtually every festival in the world wants the film,
we're "sifting through" some buyers' offers, and most importantly, Guy
was happy. Or as he would write, "Happy!!!"
Next stops with a live score: the 44th NYFF on October 15, and the
Berlin International in February.
--Gregg
Gregg Lachow
Co-President
The Film Company
Here's my report on the world premiere of BRAND UPON THE BRAIN! at the
31st Toronto International Film Festival.
Megan and I took the red-eye Wednesday night, arrived at our hotel on
Thursday, and were immediately immersed in the business side of
filmmaking. Buyers, sellers, publicists, exhibitors, and press
everywhere. The occasional star shooting by, surrounded by lesser
lights.
We went to the first rehearsal of the orchestra for "Brand upon the
Brain;" eleven members of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra, a boy
soprano, and our narrator Louis Negin, under the direction of our own
Jason Staczek. The musicians had never seen even a note of Jason's
intricate, beautiful score, yet from the first downbeat it sounded
well-nigh perfect. My mouth dropped open, Guy smiled, and Jason
breathed a sigh of relief. We were in good hands.
The next day was a difficult one, trying to put the orchestra, singer,
foley artists, and castrato together into a seamless show in 5 hours.
The dress rehearsal was a calamity, with the sound loud and soft in
all the wrong places, and people traipsing in and out of the theater
throughout (at one point, 14 publicists, no exaggeration, from the new
Will Ferrell movie came through en masse to inspect the seating
arrangements). We decided to work through until 6, thus opening the
house a half hour late. Hilariously, we had to make all our changes
while "Borat" played on the big screen, because the projector had
broken down the night before during its premiere screening, and
20th-Century Fox then insisted that the film's producer be allowed to
sit and watch the entire film before the next screening, as if that
would somehow prevent the projector from breaking down again.
As Guy and Maya walked the red carpet into the beautiful Elgin Theater
(with fans shouting at them, as Guy said later, "who are you?"), I
kept repeating the theater mantra "bad dress, good opening, bad dress,
good opening." We began 45 minutes late, but the capacity crowd of
1500, tickled perhaps at the site of the three foley artists in white
lab coats and bowties, surrounded by all kinds of strange
noise-producers, seemed in good spirits. Guy made a nice introduction
of all the live elements, the TIFF trailers played, and suddenly,
there was our film on screen, looking gorgeous!…and started up 30
seconds past the beginning. Jason couldn't cue the orchestra, and
shouted "Can we please begin again? Please?" And so we did. This
time cued up correctly—everyone clapped when they saw The Film Company
logo. Once again the images were gorgeous, the music sounded
glorious…and Louis' microphone was dead. He shouted his lines as loud
as he could while the now much hated union technicians scrambled to
fix the problem. At last they did: Louis could be heard loud and
clear, applause once more, followed by a big laugh at something
onscreen, and it was time to relax and enjoy the movie. And indeed,
after only about 30 minutes of furious nail-biting and pacing, I told
myself to relax dammit and enjoy the movie. I tiptoed to a spot in the
balcony, and was just beginning to relax and enjoy the movie when
Louis said his next line quite late, which is a hard thing to do when
it pops up on your monitor at just the right time to say it. I cursed
him and all actors, relaxed again, and he did it again. This time I
cursed the gods for their rotten sense of humor, ran downstairs, found
Guy and told him that Louis' monitor must have frozen, and that he
should sit in the loge next to Louis and poke him in just the right
place, at just the right moments. Which he did, heroically.
And so the film went off without a hitch, everyone took their
well-deserved bows, and we were an overnight success. Which, in the
festival world, means that overnight everyone forgets you and moves on
to the Next Big Thing. But we were blessed with great reviews
("breathtaking, perverse, delirious, funny and mystifying,"--the
Toronto Star, though Jamie thinks the quote we should print on the
poster is: "High upside potential!"--Screen International) and great
word of mouth, virtually every festival in the world wants the film,
we're "sifting through" some buyers' offers, and most importantly, Guy
was happy. Or as he would write, "Happy!!!"
Next stops with a live score: the 44th NYFF on October 15, and the
Berlin International in February.
--Gregg
Gregg Lachow
Co-President
The Film Company
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