Isabelle Huppert has been making the rounds in New York for a while now, both plugging away in 4.48 Psychose and introducing a rare screening of Barbara Loden's Wanda last month at BAM. My shadowy friend Looker caught her act Halloween night in Manhattan, however, where she was the tip of the ceremonial iceberg that sunk MoMA with a four-hour screening of Michael Cimino's Ur-flop Heaven's Gate:

Huppert, who looked tiny and string-beany in her jeans and cat-eye glasses and leather jacket, introduced the film as a visionary masterpiece, and proclaimed Cimino "one of the great geniuses of cinema." She said Heaven's Gate had been re-released in France last June to acclaim, and that it had failed here because it "says things about America that America wasn't ready to hear." "Maybe you're ready now," she said.

Yes, Izzy--our star-spangled short buses are all gassed up and we are set to ride wherever you are taking us. As an added bonus, Looker recounted the tailgate-party atmosphere before the screening, led by "the giggly timekeeper of the Cinemania gang," Harvey Schwartz:

Harvey told me and everyone else within earshot (he's loud) that this would be his fourth time seeing it, that the seat he was in (third row center) was his seat, and pity the fool he ever finds sitting there. He made sure we all knew he was in Cinemania. He alerted us that the boyish composer of Heaven's Gate, David Mansfield, was also an actor in the movie. He reminisced about the time at the Public Theater he yelled at the guy behind him to keep it down—[cinematographer] Nestor Almendros. And he clutched his digital stopwatch in fidgety anticipation, since he times every movie he sees.

Wow. So all of this abuse, and Looker got to watch the uncut Heaven's Gate? Jesus, dude, send me your lucky numbers and I'll run out right now for a Powerball ticket.