The film community in Holland at that time was very active, and I think the museum there had scheduled eighteen film showings for us in about three weeks. We would get on a train, travel to a new city, be met by people, be taken out to dinner, do a film showing that night. Sometimes we'd have a day in between, but usually the next morning we'd go someplace else. Sometimes there were small groups in basements with a little projector and screen, but often there were big auditoriums. David was in England when I went to The Hague for a show. I was met at the train station by three middle-aged businessmen, very seriousart collectors, very interested in independent film. We had a wonderful dinner
Page 331
together. Driving to the screening, we passed a cinema and there was a long line of people waiting out in front and a big marquee. I casually asked what the performance was that night. They said, "That's where
films are being shown." At the beginning of the show, I got up and did an introduction in Englishmost Dutch people speak English. As usual, it was a very attentive crowd. I was grateful that I had already been on the road for a while so that my presentation was quite polished. As usual, I said that there was a film about cunts and recommended that people who would be uncomfortable might at that point get up and leave. I also mentioned that it was a silent film, and then I went back and sat down in the middle of the theater with the three businessmen, one of whom was the minister of art or the equivalent for the Netherlands. The films came on
was fourth or fifth in the program. There were some wonderful movies in that program: Scott Bartlett's
[1969], Neal White's
a collection of great films from Canyon Cinema.
When
came on, at first there was a total hush, no coughing, no movement, nothing at all happening. Then I could hear voices making jokes, though, of course, I couldn't understand them because they were in Dutch. Every once in a while you'd hear a deep male voice say something obviously obscene, and a ripple of laughter would move through the crowd. I didn't know where the voices were coming from. It turned out that the professional projectionists weren't used to projecting silent films, and they hadn't realized that when they made loud comments up in the projection booth, their comments would trickle down on everybody. I really loved that because the audience could sense the difference between their experience of the film and the experience of these guys up in the projection booth watching it and respondingthey thoughtprivately. I was disappointed when the minister of art went up and made them stop.
At the end of that screening, I went up on stage to answer questions, and, of course, a lot of the questions were about
. When I talked about
as usual, I used the word "cunt." Afterward, the minister and I were photographed, smiling and shaking handsthe classic newspaper photograph. It appeared in the paper the next day, quoting the minister as saying, "I, too, am very interested in cunt." [laughter] I wish I still had that clipping.
How was
received in this country? Were there memorable screenings?
Oh yes! After I'd been traveling in Europe for a year, I came back to the States briefly and was invited to be a judge at Ann Arbor, which at that time was
big independent film festival.
had won first prize there in 1970. In fact, that's when I started
Page 332
taking myself seriously as a filmmaker. When I had finished
I sent it to Ann Arbor, and I hadn't heard anything about it. I assumed they didn't like it. The next year when I came to be a judge, I heard incredible stories about
being screened there the year before. Apparently I had been invited to be a judge because the board of the festival wanted to see the person who made
movie.
I learned that at the previous festival the judges couldn't agree to give