Made in Britain
“Anybody can get a film made,” Tim Roth proclaimed with a crooked half-smile. “Steal a credit card; break into a Kodak warehouse. But try getting the fucker distributed. That's impossible.” Roth lit yet another cigarette. “Distribution is the power.” Here to pick up the Piper-Heidsieck acting award at the S.F. Film Festival (before the screening of Little Odessa), the likable Brit confided that he's hot to move from L.A. to New York. “If you live in L.A., what do you have to base a character on? Other people in the film industry?” NYC also has a legit scene and, his stage fright notwithstanding, Roth is eager to work in live theater again. Does he want to direct movies, too? “I think most actors do, because they're power freaks,” Roth cracked. “But it would mean giving up acting for two years, and I'm not ready to do that.” Roth's best work is Vincent and Theo (directed by Robert Altman) and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (opposite Gary Oldman), but the masses know him mostly from Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction. “I'm waiting to see what happens when he's 40,” Roth said of Tarantino, “and makes his first almost adult film.”
A few winners railed against the current political and economic opposition to alternative films, but the overall mood of the Golden Gate Awards presentation Wednesday night at Slim's was celebratory. While most awardees carefully heeded the “No Stage Diving” signs, a Danish filmmaker snapped flash pictures of the applauding crowd when he mounted the steps. “I just need some proof for my producer,” he explained over the laughter, “so he'll know it really happened and he'll hire me again.” GGA grand mufti Brian Gordon saved the best for last: A trio of visiting foreign critics plus two locals were enlisted to jury two Bay Area categories — they voted the best documentary trophy to Sokly “Don Bonus” Ny and Spencer Nakasako's a.k.a. Don Bonus and the award for best short to Adam Keker's The Architect. Fashion honors — as judged solely by yours truly — went to L.A. record producer and rookie filmmaker Don Was (I Just Wasn't Made for These Times) for his all-black ensemble (even down to the scarf) crowned with shades and sandals.
Following stints at the Bridge and Opera Plaza (as well as the York before that), Tod Booth is stepping up to the big room: On June 1, he succeeds the impeccable Richard Rovatti as the new manager of the Castro. It's only a matter of time before Booth pitches a “Beat” Takeshi retrospective to Castro program maestro Anita Monga; until then, Tod, could you find out why the cherry Cokes are flat?
By Michael Fox