If you guessed the diminutive man in the picture above was Martin Scorsese you’d be right! Why bury the lead? It is a highlight for the story that is my life. That was the closest I’ve ever been to a director I have admired as a filmmaker for so long. I absolutely love Scorsese films. Even the ones I don’t like. They’re all, in an extreme sense, qualitatively different than any other film. They’re stylistically unique, epic and pointedly violent. Nobody makes a film like him and I understand film language largely because of him. It was a treat.
Yes, I did like the film.
The whole cast, more or less, was there. Best of all, I got to go with one of my closest friends. There was free popcorn and soda, and an incredible afterparty at the Roosevelt Hotel. I love that place.
When we entered, we were greeted by a cigarette girls handing out Jimmy Hoffa election pins. Union banners hung about. There was a gaggle of press photographers in costume. It was great.
It was an extravagant party to say the least. Free booze, food, water performances amongst dozens of people you recognize but don’t know any of their names. Because until now they were all just on the other side of a screen.
I’ll only bore you with one final detail.
As I was walking out the back, I overheard on the radio that Mr. Pesci was headed towards the rear exit. Where I was. There’s something about that detail that makes it feel less real. Almost like the while thing was staged just for me.
It was a fun night.