J. Hoberman

One group of people I have no problem approaching and talking to are movie and music critics. Unlike movie stars, they probably enjoy the attention and are rarely recognized. I am and have long been a critic groupie. I even asked for Bruce Webber's autograph when he was a New York Times theater critic. I won't list all the critics I've met; they don't really count as famous, for the most part. (Frank Rich, my hero, once sent me a post card.)

J. Hoberman (people call him Jim) writes movie reviews for the Village Voice. I used to resent the fact that he could see all the rarest foreign films when I rarely had the chance. These days, thanks to DVD, I can have a working knowledge of Bela Tarr and Hong Sang-Soo, not to mention Guy Maddin, just as well as the next geek.

Anyway, back in the day, I called up Hoberman to interview him about experimental films and wanted to screen the one little film he had made, a faux sci-fi short called, I think, Mission to Mongo.

He lived in a very small loft in Soho with wife and daughter. He was very nice. He screened the movie for me right there in the apartment. I still like reading his critical/cultural/social/psychological perspective on the movies. He probably still lives in that little loft, too.