I had the opportunity to attend the Wisconsin Film Festival, during which I viewed Peter Flynn's documentary focusing on film collectors who own 35mm and 16mm film prints. While it could have made for an engaging 30-minute short or even a good 50-minute documentary for TCM, the film's duration of 102 minutes makes it somewhat repetitive and occasionally loses focus. A Thousand Cuts, a book that covers a similar narrative, offers a more engaging perspective. Alternatively, Anthony Slide's Magnificent Obsession provides a more intense exploration of the subject matter, and both are highly recommended.
The film focuses on the struggles of collectors like Louis DiCrescenzo, who dedicated his entire life to collecting film prints, leaving his loved ones puzzled and disappointed by his obsession. Unfortunately, the family's hopes of financial gain from selling the collection have vanished, as Louis has decided to give it all away for free to an archive, depriving them of any potential inheritance (Louis is terminally ill in the film). Another collector, Ira Gallen, hoards shipping boxes filled with 16mm prints in various storage units across New York. Despite not knowing the contents, he continues to purchase more out of a sense of duty to preserve the material, without any plan for its future after his passing. The audience is left emotionally shaken as they try to comprehend Ray Faiola's situation. Ray lives 90 miles away from his wife and family, finding solace in his extensive film collection, which has become his closest companion. While Ray's wife appears on screen with a brave expression, her eyes reveal a profound sadness about the situation, but what can she do?
It's not all bad, as the film highlights the positive efforts of collectors like Eric "Dr. Film" Grayson, who restore neglected titles that may not be seen as valuable by others, showcasing their immense dedication and passion for their craft. Another is Stu Fink, a character who loves his cigars, sitting at a film bench surrounded by stacks of reels around him, sharing a charming history lesson about collectors. Unfortunately, the documentary neglects to feature additional collectors of this kind to offset the extreme eccentricity that is prominently shown throughout most of its duration.
In closing, "Film Is Dead: Long Live Film" portrays a world filled with individuals suffering from personality disorders, lacking social skills, and self-aggrandizing men prioritizing film over their own well-being, as most of these individuals are not the kind you'd want to spend a lot of time with, be it on or off the screen.
