Eleven days
in New York.
Eleven days
in New York
Opening
night.
First stop of the trip, a $4 meal deal- two slices and an Arizona Iced Tea from a pizza shop a block from the hotel. Opening night at the Beacon: Questlove's Earth, Wind & Fire documentary, then The Roots backing them up live through Shining Star, Let Your Feelings Show, and September.
Imaginal
Disk.
The night I was looking forward to the most. As a fan of the band, the draw was the live performance and the fact that this was the world premiere: Magdalena Bay's Imaginal Disk at Spring Studios, followed by Mica + Matt live and a conversation with the band and director Amanda Kramer.
Friday
double.
Workday into film night. Moved to the East Village. Two Q&As back to back- Vera Farmiga + Tim Blake Nelson for The Leader at SVA, Turn It Up! at AMC.
Saturday
triple.
Three films, two venues. Jean-Michel at Village East (2:15), Crocodile at AMC 19th St (6:00), Breeder back at Village East (9:15)- three post-show Q&As in a single day. A Strand run before the first show for a few gifts.
The big
Sunday.
Four films, three venues, and the original cast of Bound in the room for its 30th. The longest day on the schedule- four Q&As back to back, with a detour to the TNF flagship in between.
Daft
Punk.
Tribeca Storytellers conversation with Keke Palmer + Whoopi Goldberg, then later that evening Thomas Bangalter on stage for the Electroma 20th-anniversary screening. Rare to see Thomas anywhere in public these days. Moderated by David Fear of Rolling Stone.
Roxy +
Pacino.
Moved from a friend's couch to The Roxy. Checked in to the atrium, ate the first hotel meal on credits, walked to BMCC for the Killing Castro red carpet premiere. Pacino and DJ Khaled in the room. Sat in front of Anthony Ramos.
Canal +
Act One.
Room service breakfast, then a Canal Street haul- the Goyard and an AP Royal Oak among the pickups. Back to Village East for Sophia Takal's Act One. Two festival nights left.
Festival
finale.
Last film of the festival. Henry Chaisson's Recluse at Village East- gothic horror world premiere with Sasha Frolova leading the cast. Late dinner at Crif Dogs, live jazz floating through the Roxy atrium.
The long
way home.
The flight was canceled 30 minutes before boarding. The trip stretched 24 more hours. The TWA Hotel turned out to be the best part.
Souvenirs
+ strike.
Last day in NYC, or so I thought. Worked then ran the souvenir loop- Supreme, Brain Dead, HP Store, Despaña. Got to JFK with bags. Then the email landed.
Home, two
hops later.
Saarinen's curved white interior in morning light. Then JFK → CLT → RDU. Two flights, and one last insult from American Airlines- a bag held hostage at the carousel for two hours after landing- before finally getting home.
15 Films,
15 Verdicts.
Three categories: Recommend (broadly good), Niche Pick (only if you're into it), Skip. The festival was strong- only two skips out of fifteen.
The full
collection.
Everything that came home with me. Three watches, two wallets, a green Goyard, bottles of Dingle Gin and Kula Rum, a signed poster, a Strand tote with two blind-date books, and the rest of what made it through TSA.
This is what
the city gives you.
Eleven days. Fifteen films. Fourteen Q&As. Three hotels, two boroughs, one cancellation, and a roster of in-person sightings that reads like a cultural memo: Questlove. Magdalena Bay live. Vera Farmiga. Tim Blake Nelson. Zach Woods. Sean Ono Lennon. Natasha Lyonne. Lilly Wachowski. Jennifer Tilly. Gina Gershon. Joe Pantoliano. Keke Palmer. Whoopi Goldberg. Thomas Bangalter. Al Pacino. Sophia Takal. Ella Beatty. Carly Rae Jepsen out a restaurant window.
The point of New York isn't the celebrities- it's the density. The fact that you can see Magdalena Bay perform stripped-down at a film premiere, then watch Daft Punk's Thomas Bangalter sit on a stage three days later, then catch Pacino giving a Q&A answer that doesn't quite track, all without changing boroughs. These were once-in-a-lifetime engagements compressed into a single week.
And the city kept layering. The North Face logo in the credits of a Tribeca documentary I bought tickets for. The Knicks colors I spent days hunting at the TNF flagship- finding me, eventually, in a soft serve cone at the airport after a 24-hour flight cancellation. The TWA Hotel- Saarinen, 1962, restored- turning out to be the most beautiful interior of the trip, only because American Airlines stranded me there. Carly Rae Jepsen on the other side of a window I happened to be eating dinner against.
More than any sighting or any souvenir, what stays with me is the sheer luck of getting to be there for all of it. Eleven days like this don't just fall into your lap- this one was a gift, and I felt that every single day I got to live it. I'll be turning it over in my head for a long time, grateful it happened at all.
Opening night with Questlove. Magdalena Bay live at their own premiere. Whoopi and Keke, Thomas Bangalter, Al Pacino, the Bound cast back in one room. Fifteen films, three Canal Street watches, two wallets and a green Goyard, gin from Ireland and rum from Hawaii, a signed poster, and a Knicks cap that beat me home.
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