Could the long-running, star-studded, microcosmic conflict between the IFC Center and Projectionists Union Local 306 finally be a thing of the past? That's what The Reeler hears from a source close to the matter:

So the IFC Center dispute with the Union is over. Seems all our hard work and celebrity influence was for naught. We won!...and then...the scab projectionists over their [sic] voted not to join the union …

So I won't stop you anymore from going to their shitty pretentious theater with bad sightlines and a crew that has spit in our face but is thrilled to reap the benefits of a long history of NYC Union progress seeking fair wages and safe working conditions.

"Voted" might be oversimplifying it; folks on both sides acknowledge the representation process is a little more involved than that, and I also hear that IFC Center's projectionists never took any kind of official vote. Could "discouraged further action" be more appropriate?

Either way, if this is true.... Whoa. Talk about ending with a whimper.

Nobody is rushing to call it an official response or anything, but at least something resembling signs of life emerged from IFC Center this week in its ongoing drama with the IATSE Local 306 Projectionists Union.

A Brooklyn projectionist named Aaron Katz wrote to the Village Voice about his position at the Center, basically brushing off any supposition that anyone is being exploited, misled or underequipped in the theaters' projection booths. "It's not like IFC went and hired random people off the street and paid them pennies on the dollar," Katz wrote. "I am an experienced projectionist."

After defining his training and qualifications, Katz added:

As far as the story of the botched showing of Dont Look Back goes, I hadn't heard of it prior to reading this article. Assuming it is true, it is not indicative of lax standards. Every single union projectionist has had a terrible show at some point—likely more than one. Shit sometimes goes wrong. Overall, IFC Center standards are much higher than most places in New York City, or any place, for that matter. We actually can do reel-to-reel shows for archival prints, which is something that lots of union art house theaters can't say.

Also, we always send prints back out in the same or better shape than we got them in. The only thing we do to prints is, with the permission of the distributor, cut off the heads and tails for automation. I can't tell you how many prints we get that are in shitty shape or show up without reels or cores or are sticky or something absurd like that. We send them back out clean and correct.

I am paid well and treated with respect by IFC management. If IFC did talk to the union, there would be maybe one union guy actually hired to platter the prints and "run things." I would still get paid the same amount, and the projection standards would still be high. So, basically, I understand the anti-corporate sentiment people are expressing here, but I think that there are other corporate doings in the world that are far more deserving of their ire.

Yeah, well, "ire" might not even be the best word for it anymore. My last trip by IFC Center—on a weekend afternoon, no less—turned up exactly three people quietly handing out union leaflets to passers-by on Sixth Avenue. No inflatable rats, no John Sayles protests, no spooking Harvey Weinstein. Sigh. I miss the old days.

Inspired by last week's Times feature about IFC Center's eerie gourmet-snack tendencies, Cinematical's Karina Longworth provides an interesting breakdown of how purveying flavored popcorn butter might suggest some more insidious class concerns:

I know what you're going to say - "Jesus, it's only butter - lighten up already." Sure, it's only butter - but it's NOT only butter. As far as I'm concerned, this is a huge issue of classism. When you order a bucket of popcorn at the IFC Center, you are immediately asked if you'd like "rosemary or truffled topping" - as if that was a totally normal question. Essentially, then, when you walk into that complex it is assumed that you have an answer to the question "rosemary or truffle?", and such an answer could only be based on previous culinary experience. This is absolutely absurd. Movies are suppossed to be the great communal cultural experience of our time - appreciation thereof should have zero to do with whether or not you can afford a meal at Da Silvano.

Longworth goes on to argue that such "obstinate concession counter snobbery," combined with the ongoing projectionists union quarrel spilling onto Sixth Avenue, could eventually cement IFC Center's reputation as "a fundamentally anti-populist arts organization."

Great points all, but let us be honest: Crummy movies are going to stifle the joint way before rosemary butter ever will (and Cablevision will never play ball with the union). That said, in case you cannot afford a meal at Da Silvano, you can always slum it at the Waverly at IFC restaurant, which—if recent theater visits are any indication—is one of the establishment's more, um, underused features.

The Reeler had heard from a projectionists union source that an IFC Center opening-day screening of D.A. Pennebaker's classic Dylan documentary Dont Look Back featured four false starts and a disgruntled Pennebaker associate complaining to the union.

That's news to Pennebaker.

"No, I don't know anything about it," Pennebaker just told me. "The theater was great. I remember the old Waverly falling apart like some octagenarian temple in Cambodia, and it was kind of wonderful to see what (IFC) had done to it. Picking it up."

» Continue reading "IFC Center, Part V: Pennebaker Weighs In"

IFC Center was a little sleepy on its grand opening weekend, owing in no small part to the projectionists union presence in their cattleguard corral on Sixth Avenue. The Reeler spent a while surveying the scene on Sunday, observing the empty Waverly at IFC restaurant and eavesdropping on filmgoers' mixed impressions of Me and You and Everyone We Know. The day before, a giant inflatable rat greeted prospective ticket buyers--not exactly the first impression the Center wanted to make in the community.

For those of you just tuning in, Projectionists Local 306 has called out IFC Center management for opting to employ non-union projectionists in its booths. Some debate persists about whether the Center's projectionists possess the city requisite operator's license (the union says they do not; IFC staff told patrons Sunday that they do), but the union continues to wield a pretty formidable trump card with its picket line. (Read more of The Reeler's coverage here.)

In a kinda-related note, the Times reports today that Cablevision bosses Charles and James Dolan are looking to spin off Rainbow Media, the auxiliary catch-all that counts IFC among its assets. The Dolans' proposal has them taking Cablevision private, buying out its shareholders at $21 per share and giving them $12.50 stakes in Rainbow. Lest you think James Dolan would relinquish control of his "passion," he will head up the offshoot while keeping his title as Cablevision CEO.

The Reeler hears that top-level IFC brass sent out an e-mail Thursday promising a comp lunch to its addressees who attend today's noon showing of Me and You and Everyone We Know.

Yes, they have learned as we all have: Despite a new theater, industry hype, a critically acclaimed film and a little award called the Camera d'Or, there's nothing like free pub food to put asses in the seats.

Related Links:
IFC Center, Part II: Yellow auteurs, "Incredible Foresight"
IFC Center: Free Test Drive

The Reeler returned to the IFC Center on Wednesday, this time to see an actual movie: The new venue premiered Miranda July's buzz-packing debut Me and You and Everyone We Know to not one, but two packed theaters of rapturous applause and accolades, along with maybe just a few people for whom closing credits signify the countdown to an open bar.

At any rate, we were all in it together, and just about everyone was a pretty good sport about it--including July.

"I didn't realize that no movies had been shown in here yet," July said during her self-effacing introduction, gazing around the theater. "So you can always say you saw the first movie here. Even if it's not good, it doesn't really matter."

» Continue reading "IFC Center, Part II: Yellow Auteurs, 'Incredible Foresight'"

This is probably not what the folks behind the new IFC Center had in mind. On the Sixth Avenue theater complex's opening night, staff seemed to outnumber guests three-to-one, the projectionists' union stood by protesting the theater's eschewing of union labor and Harvey Weinstein dropped in just long enough to kick the tires and declare the place a winner.

» Continue reading "IFC Center, Part I: Free Test Drive"