A Big Detective Hunt

Headshot of Cornell Cinema Director Molly Ryan in a green top

Cornell Cinema is not only Ithaca’s oldest movie theater, but also one of the best places in town to enjoy repertory fare and special events, as well as the only venue that still regularly shows films on celluloid. Director Molly Ryan was kind enough to sit down with me recently to talk about this fall’s coming attractions, why 35mm prints are worth the effort, how programming a campus cinema is like solving a mystery, and what’s on tap for the spring.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to me today! Cornell Cinema was founded in 1970. What is it like directing an organization with this much history?

I’ve been at Cornell Cinema for almost four years now, and it’s been a really incredible ride. I had the great privilege of taking over my role from a predecessor, Mary Fessenden, who was in her role for almost 30 years, so I had a lot of learning to do and big shoes to fill. My first few years felt a bit like an experiment. I was getting to know Cornell University, getting to know Cornell Cinema itself, and also getting to know Ithaca and what plays well here, what folks respond to.

There are practices and strands that have been part of Cornell Cinema since its earliest days. One example is a proud history of presenting experimental work, artists and filmmakers pushing the boundaries of what the medium can do. It’s something that I didn’t prioritize my first couple years, but over the past year have been trying to reintroduce more regularly.

The program has always been dynamic and infused by the person who’s at the helm and their creative approach, scholarly background, or interests, as well as the interests that are palpable in the Cornell community at the time. So even though it has a deep history, it has never felt static, and it’s exciting to be part of that. People come up to me and say, “this is the specific experience that I had that has stayed with me through my whole life.” To be the recipient of those fond memories fuels the work of wanting to create that for new generations of Ithacans and Cornellians.

Do you have much direct contact with Mary or your other predecessors in this role?

Mary was incredibly generous when I first started. She sat with me for several days to say, “these are the things I think you might need to know, these are the people who are important, these are the ideas that I had but never acted on.” She still comes to Cornell Cinema to watch films and also continues to every once in a while share an idea that she thinks is inspiring. It doesn’t always work out that I can program it, but I trust her counsel for big decisions and her instincts as a programmer. I’ve only met one of the other directors of Cornell Cinema, Richard Herskowitz, but there have only been five or six, and one of my dreams is to convene that group for something like a podcast or a roundtable.

Cornell Cinema is the last local theater still regularly projecting celluloid. Your vision statement mentions a focus on exposing audiences to a variety of film formats. What does success look like, and in what direction do you see this evolving?

One of the core reasons to show films on film is that it’s presenting them as a work of art in the way their creators designed them to be experienced. It’s hard to articulate, but it’s a different feeling: there’s a way of light, a texture to the print, something to the color capacity. It’s an exciting experience. We’re very lucky at Cornell Cinema to have not only projectors that have been well-maintained and are still working, but also a head projectionist, Tim White, who apprenticed for many years and got his start in Rochester at the Little Theatre, worked at the Dryden Theatre at the George Eastman Museum for a long time, and then had a remarkable career in New York City. 

What’s fun is when former staff members regale me with tales of the day where everything was on 35mm: running down to the bus depot to get print reels, and one of the reels was missing, and the film was tomorrow, what do we do? It’s a pretty recent phenomenon that this has become less common as a cinema experience, but there’s a real risk of it going away. What success looks like is having regular access to prints that have been preserved by film archives or libraries. That can be challenging for a number of reasons. One is cost. It is expensive to ship, borrow, and license films. The other is lead time. Because there are a finite number of prints that exist in the world, archives are booked up months in advance, so if you don’t know in January what you want for September, they’re likely not accepting requests anymore.

There are also limitations from a staffing perspective. We only have one person that can show 35mm prints. Pretty much as soon as students are trained up, they leave and may or may not go into a career as a projectionist. We have at least one Cornell alum who has stayed in that career path and works at Film at Lincoln Center now, but it’s a labor-intensive process. It takes a lot of time to inspect a print, test screen it, rewind it, ship it, make sure the condition has stayed the same, which is the goal of a screening. It was hard my first couple of years because I was new, so it was hard to be ahead of the game enough to request prints as often as I wanted, but I’m hoping as I continue to get settled in here, we can do more and more of that. 

Do these screenings draw bigger crowds?

They tend to, yeah. We showed a new print of Fellini’s , and one of the cool things about that screening is that folks were listening to the introduction, because we talked about the subtitling and how sometimes it’s washed out because of burning white text into the celluloid, and some of our audience members mentioned it in surveys at the end of the year. For me that’s what success looks like, too: being able to talk about why this practice matters.

What changes have you instituted since you came to Cornell?

I’m interested in interdisciplinary teaching and learning, and have worked to invite communities, scholars, student organizations, and departments across campus to come to Cornell Cinema to explore their ideas. We’ve had a strong response to that. I’ve also introduced at least one fun tradition: at the end of every semester, we do a mystery session. The first year there were maybe 30 or 40 people that came, but over the past couple years it’s become kind of a tradition, and I appreciate that because it is purely an exercise in trust. You arrive for the film and you don’t know what you’re going to experience until it starts. It’s been a pretty eclectic mix, but the idea is to create a memorable experience that’s a bit unexpected and introduce you to something that you didn’t know to choose. One example is last December our surprise film was The Way We Were, which is based on a novel about the author’s Cornell experience, but also Robert Redford had passed that fall, so it was a dual campus connection/tribute screening.

One of the challenges of working at a university is that a huge chunk of the population turns over each year, which is not something that your commercial and nonprofit counterparts like the Regal Ithaca Mall or Cinemapolis have to deal with. How does this shape your programming decisions?

One of the things that’s unique about Cornell Cinema is that our programming follows the academic year, which is a very different schedule than cinemas that operate all year round. Our planning timelines are also different. I’m thinking three to six, even twelve months ahead, whereas independent cinemas or commercial theaters are responding to new releases all the time. In some ways I have more flexibility because I can bring to campus a whole range of films: there’s no preset menu. But I also have less flexibility because, like publishing a syllabus, we have to have a lineup ready for the whole semester. 

I try not to repeat things too often because there are so many great films in the world. The undergraduate experience is about four years, and I’ve been thinking on that as a framework: if you started as a freshman, four years later–roughly, everyone’s journey is different–there would be potential for a whole changeover in our student audience. But sometimes there are opportunities to show films on a shorter timeline than that. That’s part of my work: to not dismiss something just because it’s happened before, but instead think about new ways to revisit filmmakers and create new contexts in which they can be discovered. 

How do you balance your personal curatorial interests with the range of campus and community audiences you program for?

When I started at Cornell Cinema, I was intimidated by this opportunity to get to creative direct a whole semester of film programming. I’d been used to working in arts organizations where there was a lot more vying for your own idea. I’ve tried to cultivate some of that because I think cultural spaces are more dynamic when more people’s voices and perspectives are at play. One of the joys of my role is that I get to champion films I believe in, and there’s a balance in programming things that are more popular versus more esoteric. Fortunately, at Cornell and in Ithaca we have an audience for that, and there are folks I know will show up for certain things and not for other things, and that’s great! That’s part of the vision, that there’s something for everyone. This fall is a good example because there are two films I saw at festivals last year, Levitating and Filipiñana, that astounded me in their approach, and to get to be the ones who bring them to Ithaca for the first time is exciting.

A highlight of your annual calendar is the silent film with live music at Sage Chapel each October. This year’s selection, Faust, played Cinemapolis as part of the Finger Lakes Environmental Film Festival last spring, and it was probably the most packed screening I attended. Has it been your experience that silent movies resonate with students, too?

It was a surprise, but a really exciting one, for me to arrive in Ithaca and realize what a supportive community it was for silent film. I can’t assign total responsibility to one area, but Ithaca does have a rich silent film history that my colleague Diana Riesman of the Wharton Studio Museum has been working hard to preserve, share, and deepen our understanding of over the past ten or so years. There was a silent film studio in Stewart Park, and there were movies that were being made here, most of which are lost. 

The Sage Chapel screening is not a tradition I started: it’s one I inherited and have continued. We have this band called the Invincible Czars that comes back every year. That’s a unique and very Cornell experience, to watch a spooky film in this immaculate chapel. We try to do that work also beyond Sage Chapel, and this fall we’ll have an Italian film from 1917 called Malombra, and musicians Donald Sosin and Joanna Seaton will come and perform an original live score for that as well.

Thanks to Gabriela Gómez Estévez, the director of Cornell Orchestras, there’s going to be a screening with a live score of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by composer Sheldon Mirowitz, and he’ll be with us to conduct the orchestra. It’s been a dream of mine that Cornell students could be involved in that work, so it’s exciting to see it coming to life. That’s going to be a free event at Bailey Hall in November.

You mentioned experimental film earlier–can you talk a bit more about the role it plays in your programming?

The experimental strands for me have opened opportunities to reach beyond Ithaca to folks in Rochester, Binghamton, Syracuse. It’s a thing that you’d make a trip for, partially because artist films often are more complicated to access; seeing these films in dialogue also helps you understand them differently. Cornell has a long history of artist filmmaking that’s happened in this region, but experimental filmmaking is not the primary focus of the curriculum here, so it’s been cool to also draw in these other communities.

The “Wayfaring Strangers” series caught my eye because piggybacking off a new release like The Odyssey is one of my favorite ways to get people to see older movies. How does selecting titles for a more oblique theme like this differ from a series organized, say, around an individual director or a film movement?

Thanks for calling that out because it’s one of the things I’m most excited about for the fall! With “Wayfaring Strangers,” I knew I wanted to do something with The Odyssey. Initially, I was like, “we’ll do a bunch of Greek mythology adaptations, that’ll be fun.” But that didn’t feel like the most interesting way. What I got excited about was this idea of a psychologically charged journey on foot, so I brought together art house European films that are, frankly, among my favorites I’ve ever seen and reflect this process of discomfort and self-discovery and disconnection from the world around you that I think is a core part of Odysseus’s journey. These films are not so much about getting to a place as the experience along the way. They’re all strange and wonderful and awesome. I hope people embrace the opportunity to think deeply in different directions and contexts about grappling with the modern world and your place within it, which is a timeless theme.

Do you talk to Executive Director of Cinemapolis Kate Donohue and other exhibitors in the region about what you’re all programming to avoid overlap?

One of the things that’s exciting for me about working as a film programmer in Ithaca is that there are multiple cinemas. That’s a rare thing, actually, and I’ve described it as similar to restaurants. If you have multiple options it creates areas for specialization, and I think that’s what our cinema culture does here. Because we’re on a college campus, we’re considered an educational or non-theatrical client. That means I don’t typically get first dibs on brand new releases: things like the latest Marvel movie will need to premiere at the Regal or Cinemapolis before Cornell Cinema can have access to it.

I talk to Kate regularly and think of her as a close collaborator and thought partner! I certainly am noting which films haven’t made it to Ithaca, but there’s also no harm in another chance to see something great. At the end of the semester, we’re showing a film called Sound of Falling that played at Cinemapolis last spring, but it had a short run, and it fits with another idea we’ll be exploring in November. That’s my job as a programmer: not only to come up with a list of movies that I think are neat, but also to navigate the changing landscape of film distribution, which is interesting and exciting and more complicated than most people understand. It’s kind of like a big detective hunt every semester, trying to figure out what’s coming. Who has the film? When does it make sense? Does it conflict with anything else? All of those kinds of considerations.

Are you already working on the schedule for next semester and, if so, what might we have to look forward to?

The answer is yes and no. I’m sort of bogged down by the start of the fall semester right now, but always thinking ahead. One thing I’ve been wanting to do for a while is a series on giallo, which is Italian horror psychological thrillers from the 1970s, so perhaps it’ll be that. I guess I’ve had horror on the brain, but I’ve also been thinking mid-century horror, like Universal Pictures from the 50s, could be a fun series. And then one of the things I like to do is focus on a different type of film labor. Directors and lead actors get a lot of fanfare, but I’m interested in trying to look at the body of work of a costume designer, a sound designer, a screenwriter–how could that help us think differently about the art of filmmaking? In the spring, I’m toying with the idea of either doing production design as a focus or visual effects, ideally practical effects. Stay tuned!

Previous interviews can be found here.

Ithaca Film Journal: 9/3/26

In Theaters: We’ll be out of town for most of the next week, so the only movie I’m going to be able to catch is former Film Comment editor Kent Jones’s latest Late Fame, which opens at Cinemapolis tomorrow. It’s actually pretty quiet on the new release front otherwise, but there are some outstanding repertory options to choose from!

The one I’m sorriest to miss is The Searchers at the Regal Ithaca Mall tomorrow. I’ve written about it quite a few times on this blog and elsewhere, including as recently as July in a post called “What Makes a Man To (Not) Wander.” The Regal is also showing Halloween tomorrow, Double Indemnity on Saturday, and The Last Picture Show on Wednesday. Cornell Cinema is screening Aguirre, the Wrath of God tonight, Jia Zhangke’s debut feature Pickpocket tomorrow, and a new 4k restoration of Days and Nights in the Forest on Saturday. Finally, Cinemapolis gets in on the action with Studio Ghibli’s production of The Tale of the Princess Kaguya on Tuesday.

The Odyssey, which closes at Cinemapolis today but continues its run at the Regal, reclaims its title as my favorite holdover. I also enjoyed The End of Oak Street, It Ends (which I only saw last night and am still processing), Spider-Man: Brand New Day, Tony, and Toy Story 5. All of them are at the Regal, and both It Ends and Tony are at Cinemapolis as well.

Last but not least, special events include free presentations of Palestine 36 at Cornell Cinema on Tuesday, The Sludge War at Cinemapolis on Wednesday, and Black Panther: Wakanda Forever at Cornell Cinema on Wednesday featuring an introduction by Cornell alum Dominique Thorne, who plays Riri Williams. There’s also a screening of the documentary A Place in the Ring at Cinemapolis on Saturday which will feature a talkback with subject Katja Schumann.

Home Video Recommendation: Speaking of Princess Kaguya, The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter that she originally appeared in also inspired one of the wackiest movies I’ve seen so far this year, Cosmic Princess Kaguya! Here’s the somewhat befuddled reaction I posted to Letterboxd in April:

What if Hermione, Harry, and Luna Lovegood were all the same person? I am not the target audience for this and frankly didn’t fully understand what the heck was going on during most of it, but found its frenetic pace and colorful images enjoyable in a people watching in downtown Tokyo after downing two double espressos sort of way. If you can’t handle the soundtrack, don’t even think about tackling the full audiovisual experience.

Kaguya! is available on Netflix with a subscription.

Previous “Ithaca Film Journal” posts can be found here. A running list of all of my “Home Video” recommendations can be found here.

Juxtaposition #26

From Disclosure Day:

Low-angle shot of a pro wrestler's boot about the stomp the person whose perspective it represents
Long shot of the wrestler from the previous image and his opponent in the ring
Medium long shot of the wrestler from the previous two images prepares to smash his opponent over the head with a folding chair from the left side of the frame in front of a big screen display showing the same image as a long shot which also includes said opponent

From Speed Racer:

Close-up of Emile Hirsch's Speed Racer talking about the 43rd Grand Prix in front of blue-tinted black-and-white footage of the race's finish
Sepia-toned longshot of the race's winner Ben Burns sitting in his car in front of a crowd celebrating with the traditional bottle of milk
Close-up of Roger Allam's Royalton looking like a classic movie villain

ROYALTON: Do you understand? Burns knew he was going to win. It was already decided. A week before the Prix, Goldman and Sirrus met with several other major players at the Carlyle Hotel. They met there as they had for years, just as their fathers had met, and as their sons and heirs will still meet. They met to negotiate the finish order of the Grand Prix.

Previous “Juxtaposition” posts can be found here.

Ithaca Film Journal: 8/27/26

In Theaters: As you have no doubt noticed if you live in Ithaca, the “collegers” (as my girls call them) are back and that means so is Cornell Cinema! They kick off their fall lineup with a new 4k restoration of Thelma & Louise this evening in honor of its 35th anniversary. I’m going to catch the final screening of The Wrong Girls at Cinemapolis before it closes myself, though, then follow it up with Buddy and/or It Ends at the Regal Ithaca Mall later in the week. We’re also hoping to see Coyote vs. Acme as a family there or at Cinemapolis but not until after next Thursday.

The holdover I’m highest on is Mutiny, which continues its run at the Regal. Here’s what I said about it on Letterboxd:

Jason Statham in non-mythological mode. The film takes advantage of the agoraphobic/claustrophobic contrasts afforded by a cargo ship on the high seas: an open-air showdown in the former register lets us feel the full heft of a fire axe, and while the close-quarters fight choreography typical of the latter might not be flashy, it does rank among the year’s best. I don’t know if Mutiny will still be on my top ten list come Oscar night, but Adrian Lester’s U.S. Navy captain who leads by looking away is the excuse I’ve been waiting for to write about the lessons I learned as a manager from Damian Lewis’s Major Dick Winters in Band of Brothers, so stay tuned to ye olde blog around then for more!

I also enjoyed The Odyssey, Spider-Man: Brand New Day, and Tony, which wisely leans into the hagiography inherent in most biopics. All three movies likewise remain at both Cinemapolis and the Regal. I wasn’t as keen on Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, which continues its run at the same two theaters, but it does feature some beautiful matte paintings.

Special events include a screening of Project Hail Mary at Cornell Cinema tomorrow introduced by Lisa Kaltenegger and Abigail Bohl from the Cornell Center for Astrophysics and Planetary Science and followed by an open telescope night at the Fuertes Observatory. Finally, noteworthy repertory options include Terminator 2: Judgment Day (which like Thelma & Louise also turns 35 this year) at the Regal Saturday-Wednesday and a celebration of the letter “P” at Cornell Cinema on Saturday that consists of first The Producers and then Perfect Blue.

Home Video Recommendation: Speaking of films from 1991, even with the fall semester in full swing, now is a fine time to watch A Brighter Summer Day. Here’s what I said about it on Letterboxd earlier this month:

Perhaps the shortest four-hour-long movie ever made. Every single scene contains an object or a line of dialogue that anticipates a later event and/or echoes an earlier one, but like the works of Hawks and Tolstoy that we are explicitly invited to compare it to, Brighter Summer Day‘s construction feels organic, not mechanical. 

Great art might also follow a blueprint, but it can’t be taken apart and put back together again the way Chi-tsan Wang’s Cat does with the radio that belongs to his friend Xiao Si’r (Chang Chen). Take the advice that Si’r is given by his father (Kuo-Chu Chang), for instance: “a person who’ll apologize for wrongs he didn’t commit is capable of all sorts of terrible things.” It indicts the state he works for when it demands this very thing of him later and resonates with Honey’s (Hung-Ming Lin) observation that Shandong (Alex Yang) doesn’t “seem the type that’s not afraid to die.” But look how far these insights get each of them!

Director Edward Yang clearly hopes that *we* will be able to make more out of his grand design than Honey took away from War and Peace, but it’s hardly as if he fancies himself Lao Tzu at the Han-ku Pass. While he knows the flashlight he wields is better than a knife and while he hopes the path he’s lighting leads to a better world than the one he’s depicting, the burden is on us to follow it and find out.

Current Cornell University faculty, staff, and students have access to A Brighter Summer Day on Kanopy via a license paid for by the Library. It’s also available on the Criterion Channel with a subscription, for rental or purchase from a number of other streaming video platforms, and on Blu-ray from the Criterion Collection.

Previous “Ithaca Film Journal” posts can be found here. A running list of all of my “Home Video” recommendations can be found here.

Dispatch from Capitolfest 23

Banner for Capitolfest 23 featuring black-and-white images of tribute stars Charles Ruggles and "Skeets" Gallagher in front of a photograph of the Capitol Theatre on the left and information about the event on the right

The Nitrate Picture Show was on my radar for a number of years before it finally dawned on me that I lived close enough to actually go to it. Despite being more than a decade older and located almost exactly the same distance from my home in Ithaca, Capitolfest somehow flew under it until just a few months ago when someone I met at NPS recommended that I attend. The festival focuses on “rarely-seen silent and early talking movies,” and when I realized that well over 90% of the films that played there the past few years would have been completely new to me, I immediately secured lodging and registered for the 23rd edition. And so it was that I came to spend last weekend in The Capitol Theatre, a nearly hundred-year-old movie palace in Rome, New York, switching back and forth between these two front-row views of the red velvet curtains behind its original Möller theater organ, which was kept busy by some of the world’s best silent film accompanists:

View from my first preferred front-row seat next to the left aisle
View from my second preferred front-row seat next to the right aisle

Capitol Arts Complex Director Art Pierce joked that the lineup consisted of “too many films” in his introduction. While it definitely did look overwhelming on paper, the generally short runtimes associated with movies from this era (Captain Blood, the longest one in the program, was still less than two hours), intermissions built into the sessions, and ample breaks between them all combined to create an atmosphere that, as Capitolfest’s slogan says, was more akin to “a vacation, not a marathon.” Another relevant factor for me as someone trying to “cover” the event was that because these titles screen so infrequently, very little has been written about them, so the cursory research I typically do before logging something on Letterboxd never took very long, making it gratifyingly easy to keep up with everything.

Such was the case with two British features from the 1930s given their belated U.S. premieres on the second day, Raise the Roof and Mr. Satan, which were both shown on 35mm prints from the BFI National Archive that looked pristine. This perhaps shouldn’t be surprising considering that the program notes for Roof quote BFI’s Hannah Prouse as saying that it “has screened a couple of times in the UK, but otherwise has only been accessed for research purposes.” That film, the first foray into talkies by Betty Balfour (who per Pierce “is generally considered to be Britain’s most popular star of the 1920s”), doesn’t really come to life until the final reel when the down-and-out theater troupe she’s part of pulls a whole new show together in one day by turning their missing costumes and sets into a delightfully risqué theme, but Mr. Satan is a blast right from the start. It stars James Stephenson and festival tribute star “Skeets” Gallagher as the suavely unflappable journalist Tim Garnett and his American photographer, who are basically 007 and Felix avant la lettre. It also features Chili Bouchier as a woman far too intelligent and resourceful to simply fall into Garnett’s arms, but who of course proceeds to do just that, and Franklin Dyall as a character with the perfect Bond villain name “Zubova” and a plan for world domination that he naturally reveals to our hero in a monologue. Which: his goal is essentially to start World War II! Satan lacks the globe-trotting locations that are, admittedly, a big part of what makes the superspy genre so fun, and the action sequences are rudimentary aside from an impressive plane crash, but it’s remarkable how much of the now-familiar template was already in place as early as 1938.

The two aptly named Rob’s Rarities programs curated and introduced by film historian Rob Stone were even more obscure. The first consisted of comedies from the 1910s accompanied on organ by Ben Model, including Babe’s School Days, Oliver Hardy’s last surviving appearance for the East Coast-based Lubin Manufacturing Company; Gravy, which looks like something the sketch comedy troupe The State might have come up with had they worked for Metro Pictures in 1915 instead of MTV in 1995; and the Larry Semon vehicle Plans and Pajamas, during which I unfortunately spaced out. Such are the perils of the film festival firehose! The second was a tribute to Jerry Lewis in honor of his centenary highlighted by a hilarious “screen test” for Milton Berle and footage of Dean Martin MC-ing the “premiere” of one of Lewis’s Gar-Ron Productions. My only complaint is that I wish we could have seen the movie itself to provide a point of comparison for the Gallagher two-reeler The Finishing Touch that screened the following day because, as I said on Letterboxd, it “feels like a more polished version of what I imagine they might look like.” Other shorts shown throughout the weekend included the fourth reel of The Majesty of the Law, an otherwise lost silent (which was accompanied on organ by David Peckham) that contains a nifty portrayal of a sophisticated holdout device (although in classic cinematic fashion the cheater inefficiently uses it to save a seven of all cards until he can make four of a kind and defeat aces full); a très bizarre Terrytoon called French Fried; and informative documentaries about Gallagher and his fellow tribute star Charles Ruggles directed by the Capitol’s AJ Parker.

Speaking of Gallagher, the film he shined brightest in was The Perfect Clue: even though Pierce’s program notes explain that he was brought in only two days before shooting started, his performance as a blotto playboy besotted with female lead Dorothy Libaire’s Mona Stewart really is the best thing about it. Meanwhile, my favorite Ruggles performance was his star turn as a callow socialite in The Girl Habit, which starts out like a feature-length version of the shopping scene from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation and ends up like a comedic version of The Shawshank Redemption. Both halves work better than you might think because Ruggles and the supporting cast featuring some of the best character actors in Hollywood history (including Margaret Dumont, Allen Jenkins, and Donald Meek) are terrific. My personal applause-o-meter seemed to indicate that my fellow attendees preferred him as a contentedly middle-class older gentleman happily–and realistically!–married to Mary Boland’s Jessie Todd in Mama Loves Papa, though. Regardless of which one you like better, as my fellow NPS vet Joshua said on Letterboxd, this duo and Mind Your Own Business (all of which were presented on 35mm, as was Perfect Clue) were “arguably the most enjoyable films of the festival.”

These movies all benefitted from being shown at an event organized around one of their best elements. The flip side of this coin is trying to decide what to say about an elegant masterpiece like Trouble in Paradise and getting hung up on the fact that it might not even represent one of Ruggles’ three best performances in the festival! The literature on director Ernst Lubitsch and his “touch” is vast, so suffice to say that the only film I had already seen going into Capitolfest 23 made for a perfect nightcap, and I can’t think of a better place to have finally experienced it on the big screen than a theater where, according to Pierce’s program notes, it played in January 1933 during its original theatrical run.

Another highlight was the 35mm print of Vitagraph’s 1924 adaptation of Captain Blood that screened on Saturday. It was preceded by an equally epic tale of film preservation by Library of Congress Nitrate Vault Leader George Willeman, who described starting with a nitrate print that Warner Bros. (which bought Vitagraph in 1925) struck from the original negative in 1935. As quoted in William Remmers’ excellent program notes:

We believe it was made to see if the action/battle scenes could be reused for the remake. Most of the model shots and big explosions are missing from the nitrate we hold; removed and slugged with blank film. Long story short, none of the shots save one was used in the remake.

To replace the missing footage, we acquired three elements: A partial-tinted show print from UCLA and two 9.5mm prints: one from the EYE Institute and the other from Kevin Brownlow. It took several months, but we were able to place all the missing shots back in. Our lab created a 2K digital master from our work from which the new print was struck. Now, it is obvious where the 9.5 shots were interpolated, and we were a bit concerned about how that would be accepted, but they are all short and happen at the height of action. Hopefully the audience is fully invested in the picture and won’t dwell on that.

He need not have worried: when the boat blew up, the crowd went wild! Willeman was also responsible for bringing Brett Miller to Rome to accompany the film with the knockout score he reconstructed from the original cue sheets. But while this was perhaps its most extraordinary screening, the biggest revelation of the weekend was The Home Maker, which David Peckham accompanied on organ the previous evening. This handsome tale of an unhappy bread-winner (Clive Brook) married to a miserable housewife (Alice Joyce) who change places in the aftermath of an accident proved to be a fascinating companion to the Mikio Naruse late silents I’ve been enjoying on the Criterion Channel recently, particularly the similarly flip-flopped gender roles in Every-Night Dreams. But while the families in both movies are clearly better off with mom working and dad taking care of the kids, here everyone is unequivocally happier as well. This is enough to render the outrageous “double ending” (to use Matt Strohl’s term) absurd to the point of being legible as parody, which is a testament to how much more progressive audiences of the time were than we sometimes give them credit for.

Believe it or not, the titles mentioned above constitute barely half the total number I watched and omit three more 35mm presentations and four movies accompanied on organ, including a soufflé starring Constance Talmadge called Breakfast at Sunrise that was given even more lift by the great Dr. Philip C. Carli. While these screenings weren’t quite as memorable, the experience as a whole is one I won’t soon forget. Next year’s tribute stars Marian Nixon and Jack Oakie are nearly completely unknown to me, which carries with it the tantalizing prospect of additional discoveries; I’d also like to explore the town more and maybe try some local delicacies like chicken riggies and Utica greens, which I failed to do this time around in part because I proceeded straight from the final movie of session #7 (Paris Green accompanied on organ by Ben Model) to pick My Loving Wife and our dog up from a week at the family cottage in Ontario. Last but not least, it occurs to me that Capitolfest represents a better opportunity to make a meaningful contribution to film culture than NPS since it covers less-well-trodden ground. So I’ll be back, in other words, and probably sooner rather than later!

Previous film festival dispatches can be found here.

Ithaca Film Journal: 8/20/26

In Theaters: I recently wrote 2,500 words about director Jane Schoenbrun’s previous film I Saw the TV Glow, so yes: Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma opening at Cinemapolis and the Regal Ithaca Mall is this week’s main attraction! I’m planning to see Tony at one of these venues as well. Finally, although The Rivals of Amziah King continues its run at Cinemapolis, My Loving Wife and I are both confirmed members of the Church of Statham, so the date night outing I mentioned last week will be to the Regal instead to see Mutiny.

The Odyssey, which is still going strong at both Cinemapolis and the Regal, remains your holdover highlight, but I also enjoyed Spider-Man: Brand New Day (also at both venues) and The End of Oak Street (Regal), which as I recently noted on Letterboxd trumps the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it diploma in Ella McCay as the most flattering recent cinematic reference to Cornell. Special events include a “Drag Movie Night” presentation of Death Becomes Her at Cinemapolis next Wednesday, and noteworthy repertory options include 25th anniversary screenings of The Fast and the Furious at the Regal all week and 40th anniversary screenings of Castle in the Sky there Saturday-Wednesday.

Home Video Recommendation: I’m normally wary of biopics, especially when they’re about people whose work I’m familiar with like Anthony Bourdain, but I’m cautiously optimistic about Tony because it’s directed by Matt Johnson, whose Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie is probably my favorite comedy of 2026. I’m already angry that it isn’t going to get nominated for a Best Film Editing Oscar, and this bottle of Orbitz, a load-bearing element in the time travel plot, is headed for my personal Movie Prop Hall of Fame:

Matt Johnson (Matt Johnson) holds a bottle of Orbitz in front of his face as he sketches out his latest "plan" to secure a gig at Toronto's performance space the Rivoli

Nirvanna is available on Hulu with a subscription, for rental and purchase on a number of other platforms, and on DVD/Blu-ray from Neon.

Previous “Ithaca Film Journal” posts can be found here. A running list of all of my “Home Video” recommendations can be found here.

Ithaca Film Journal: 8/13/26

In Theaters: I will be in Rome, New York tomorrow until Sunday to attend Capitolfest 23, my very first time at this event–stay tuned for a “dispatch” blog post in a couple/few weeks! I’m going to Canada for a couple of days after that, but am hoping to catch The End of Oak Street at the Regal Ithaca Mall after I return. My Loving Wife is a big Matthew McConaughey fan and we’re planning a date night outing to see The Rivals of Amziah King at Cinemapolis as well, but ideally we’ll have the luxury of waiting until next week.

The Odyssey, which continues its run at both theaters, remains my favorite holdover for a third week in a row. I also enjoyed I Want Your Sex (Cinemapolis), Spider-Man: Brand New Day (Cinemapolis & Regal), and Toy Story 5 (Regal). Finally, your special events/repertory highlight is definitely the two screenings of Mulholland Drive at Cinemapolis on Tuesday because all David Lynch fans should experience it on the big screen at least once.

Home Video Recommendation: I recently caught up with Bellissima after missing it at this year’s Nitrate Picture Show (which I only attended for one day) and it’s great! I marked my Letterboxd movie diary entry for it as “contains spoilers,” but those don’t start until the second paragraph. Here’s the first:

Reminds me of French Cancan, except here the film director Alessandro Blasetti (playing himself) is helpless in the face of humanity as a force of nature–not just the stage mothers shouting “mine is bellissima!” which Pauline Kael says inspired it, but also his braying colleagues–instead of able to harness it. Except, of course, that the true analog for Jean Gabin’s Henri Danglard is Anna Magnani’s streetwise I-will-survivor Maddalena Cecconi. 

Read the rest after you see it, then drop me a line in the comments if you can think of a more misleading DVD cover than this one for the Entertainment One release I recently bought on Amazon, which gives no hint whatsoever that the film is a lively comedy:

The DVD case for Bellissima, which makes this comedy look like a depressing Neorealist drama

Bellissima is also available for rental on Prime Video.

Previous “Ithaca Film Journal” posts can be found here. A running list of all of my “Home Video” recommendations can be found here.