The Solitary Journey of the Outsider Cineaste

cineaste  (ˈsɪnɪˌæst)
— n
	an enthusiast for films

     To make a sweeping generalization: there are people who've grown up in and continue to travel in "intellectual communities", people who are surrounded by peers with similar interests who they are regularly if not exclusively engaged in conversation with . . .  and then there are others; those who grew up in a culture that was not exactly nurturing to intellectual pursuits; working class families, where food, shelter and safety where primary concerns and smarty-pants and artsy-fartsy concerns don't even make the top 10.

      There are also people like me, David Matias, perhaps.  People who grew up in the ghettos of Brooklyn in the 1980s and 90s, with parents who came over from Puerto Rico in 1960 and had formal education only to about the 4th grade.  People who themselves were educated in some of New York City's more neglected elementary and intermediate public schools that were not exactly focused on the highest standard of academic excellence.  Inner city kids who played street games and listened to Hip-Hop and watched cartoons based on toys.

      Back then we watched whatever was on regular TV, on the set in the living room, when we had control of it.  I primarily saw movies on commercial television in the 80s.  WPIX (Channel 11) was New York's movie station, but even the major networks would show films regularly.  You could count on seeing certain standards like The Breakfast Club, West Side Story and It's A Wonderful Life at least once a year.  The movies were edited for television with commercials but I don't recall the commercial breaks, only the movies. I remember sitting on the couch watching King Kong (the 1976 version with Jessica Lange and the Twin Towers) one  4th of July. The broadcast airwaves beamed Stephen King's It as well as The Exorcist into my head through that cathode ray tube.  I seem to recall that West Side Story always showed on a Saturday afternoons and that was one movie that my whole family would watch.  For a long time it was the only movie I knew of that portrayed Puerto Ricans  (even though most of the Puerto Rican characters were played by Caucasian actors with brown make-up) .  Still, rarely seeing ourselves on screen, we felt a sort of pride associated with that classic motion picture musical.

            There were occasional excursions to movie theaters.  My first movie memory is of my dad taking me and my little brother to see Sesame Street's Follow That Bird.  After that, what stands out is the first R-rated movie I saw - Beverly Hills Cop 2 (my older brother was going on a date and I somehow nagged my way in).  And then there was first time I went to the movies without an adult - to see the Jean-Cluade Van Damme classic Bloodsport with my friends.

            Once there was a VCR in the house, it was mine by default.  At least that's the way I saw it.  I was the one with the most interest.  The official purchased tapes that were in the library included; Stand By Me, Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.  My oldest sister Irma bought all the Disney movies for my niece and we saw those too.  Also, there were the musicals my sister was fond of: Sound Of Music, Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory.

            From my sister Silvia's boyfriend came bootleg tapes of R-rated movies.  Half of those were of the video camera recorded in the theater type, the other half were of the not intended for the public screener type;  New Jack City, The King of New York, and other gangster flicks of the era.

            From my friends came the occasional porno tape that was passed around.  There was Freddie and Jason, Schwarzenegger and Stallone, Home Alone and The Good Son, Reservoir Dogs and Natural Born Killers. The last two sparked something in me, not so much in friends at the time.  I began to take notice of filmmaking. 

            I was 15 and so were four of my friends when we went to the theaters to see "Pulp Fiction".  After first being refused tickets by the employee at the booth (seeing as we were sans parents), we somewhat desperately asked a seemingly cool gentleman if he would take our money and purchase the tickets for us.  He did.  And with the excitement of crossing into a forbidden yet popular world, we sat in the front row just as the film was starting. "Yeah, that shit was crazy . . . but, Pulp Fiction was more than just a 'cool flick', wasn't it?"  I wondered what made it different from other things I'd seen. I'd like to see more stuff like this.  My curiosity led me first to John Woo's Hong Kong action pics and eventually the French New Wave.

      As a teenager, I had my own space and my own television - a hand me down clunker from the early 80s - all dials and knobs and push down buttons.  A VCR of my own was not yet a part of the picture.    I could hardly stand to watch movies in the living room with everybody (my parents, 4 brothers, 2 sisters, a niece and some nephews) yapping.  Eventually, I was snatching up the family VCR for my personal use most of the time.  I had to disconnect it and lug it to my room and hook it up to the old school set every time I wanted to watch a movie, which was most of the time. 

         
     In this pre-internet age (for me anyway) I was privy to just tip of the iceberg in terms of cinema history.  Public Broadcasting stations served a few mouthwatering bits.  But mostly I just opened myself up to everything when it came to movies.  I realized that there were interesting options right under my nose.  The local shabby video store, my source for most things movies,  was a sort of sanctuary for me.  When there wasn't a popular mainstream title that I had to see - I once waited around for about 5 hours for a copy of Wayne's World to be returned - I would scan the aisles for interesting or familiar indie selections. Classics and Foreign films were practically non-existent there. 

            One dreary Saturday afternoon, I found an empty VHS box for a film called "Hate".  The cover art certainly caught my eye and I had the vague sense that I'd heard of the film. (Did I hear about it on "Siskel & Ebert"?)  I gave the guy behind the bullet-proof glass shielded counter a couple of bucks and recited the series of numbers written on the white sticker affixed to the cover for that movie for the video cassette in a clear plastic box.  I went home, sat in my room by myself and watched it.  At the end of the viewing my mouth was literally open, my mind figuratively blown.  So now there's this film that I discovered that nobody knows about and I want to share it and I set out to, only, it's black & white, and it's in French, with subtitles.  “But the scenario man, they live kinda like us, but different.  It's like the ghetto, but in France...  Trust me.”  My mission was not entirely successful.  Some of my friends saw it and liked it.  But I guess I was looking for a reaction similar to mine - a look of draw dropping amazement, a confused awe.  To see them, deeply impacted, profoundly changed.  I saw none of that.  I did not find a kindred spirit that shared this love for what emanated from the screens.  I knew for sure then, what I long sensed in my gut, that I was alone in this.  I was going to pursue this world that so intrigued me.  I would follow the thread wherever it led. 

            I chose Film Production as my major when I enrolled in Brooklyn College in 1997.  There I sought to find fellow film fiends.  I did.  The halcyon days of film school gave me a sense of validation.  Since then, have been a few hook-ups along the way but no long term relationships of cinephile love - the fleeting impermanence of a brief exchange at a repertory house, a mutual appreciation for Fellini with a classmate, enthusiastically sharing Kieslowski films with a co-worker, a poignant recommendation from a video store clerk, a conversation at a bar – strangers in the night discussing Wong Kar Wai.  When I actually talk about movies with people that I encounter in day-to-day life, especially those of my generation - the conversation is definitely limited.  Everybody appreciates The Godfather, but then what?   “Yeah, The Dark Knight was awesome.”  But inevitably I'm outed.  “Actually I hated Iron Man 2, it bored me to death.  I didn't care about the characters at all.”  “No actually I don't love Star Wars” “Really?!”  “Yeah.”

            So I come to the internet, a place (that's not really a place) where I sit alone and look at the screen and see the images and read the words.  And, behind the words, I find people; people talking about film, people who I'll never meet; critics and academics and enthusiasts discussing cinema passionately.  And I feel a little less alone.