A love affair with
the neighborhood: Directed by Jim Cantiello
First published in the Times
Beacon Record Newspapers
Some people can’t wait to grow up and move away from the
neighborhood. Some enjoy their nostalgia long distance and some come home to
visit or to stay. Jim Cantiello wants to share his happy memories of growing up
on the north
According to the film’s prospectus, Directing Rye is a
“heartwarming comedy about a wedding videographer who volunteers to film his
son’s school musical production of “The Catcher in the
Directing
Filming took place during spring break and the Gelinas
cafeteria was transformed by the constant flux of cast, crew, extras, parents,
photographers and others eddying and pooling around the waiting, eating,
wardrobe and makeup stations. The auditorium served as the main shooting location,
providing a stage on which to produce “The Catcher in the
According to Cantiello, the script was written in February
2002 as a final project for the first semester of his last year at NYU’s
Boyish enthusiasm lights up his handsome face as he talks about the film and the actors. Romero was his history teacher back in high school and they have kept in touch sporadically over time. “Jim sent me an email two months ago,” said Romero, sitting in a special chair to coddle his bad back between scenes. Romero traveled to NYU to audition and was “a little caught off guard” when he got the part. “I am thrilled on two levels,” he said. “I have known Jim since he was a student in high school and I am trying to help him make his project successful, and I am thrilled personally to have a creative outlet.”
Staller, (yes, he’s part of our locally famous Staller family) is described by everyone on the set as talented and nice. “He’s such a natural,” said Romero. “He’s one of the most poised and self confident eighth graders that I have ever met – and I taught eighth grade for two years. He’s an amazing performer.” The wardrobe mistress, Lisa Goldman, who also serves as script supervisor, and Lisa Ganz, the professional hair and makeup artist Cantiello hired, just adore him, fussing over him like birds feathering their nest. He remains calm and smiles slightly, changing his clothes or tilting his head as requested. Then he’s gone – off to film his next scene.
Other than the “two huge leads” there is Mrs. Inners, the drama teacher and author of the school play who Cantiello found by attending the Purim play at his girlfriend’s temple. Local talent Sophia Amaro had just the something he was looking for and at the coffee following her campy performance as Queen Esther he approached her about being in his movie. Amaro, who has extensive musical and theatrical experience was charmed by the young director and joined his growing band of dream weavers.
Interviewing a director in the middle of making a movie is a little like trying to catch a butterfly. The wind shifts and the creature comes within reach, only to be caught by the next breeze (or crew member, lighting issue or worried extra) and fly away. The old adage about sitting quietly and waiting for it to land on your shoulder is useless as the “just a minute [to take] a quick look at something becomes two, becomes 10, becomes half an hour, as the director gets involved in the important minutia of his film and forgets you’re even on the set. Then, he’s back and you’re impressed that he recalls your last question and has even considered an answer. Half of which you hear, before he flies off again for another extended “minute” of consultation. You can’t even be annoyed because this is what he’s here for, and he’s trying so hard to make time, and he’s clearly busy enough for three people and he’s so apologetic, so adorably, sincerely sorry to be making you wait while he works on his dream.
Making a movie is seriously un-glamorous. It is disjointed (the scenes are never filmed in the order in which the movie-going public sees them), it is boring (a lot of time is spent waiting for the lighting, sound, set, makeup and other essential elements to be just right) and it is frustrating (the same 45 second scene can be shot a dozen times, not because the director is being a jerk but because someone sneezed, or their was a hair on the camera lens or because in the last scene that extra had a hat and now he doesn’t). However, it’s also a kind of performance art. A good director – and Cantiello is that, working with a talented team, creates a marvelous sort of dance.
Standing in the Gelinas parking lot in the chilly late afternoon sun, one long arm laden with jackets and sweatshirts doffed by his amateur extras for the shot of them entering the school to attend the play, Cantiello is the picture of good natured patience. He gives back the jackets and chooses four or five younger children to play tag around the flagpole while the adults enter the school, shooting them several times as they chase each other around the small patch of grass. Now he retrieves the jackets and assembles the older kids and adults in small groups at the outside edge of the frame so they can make their way to the door in a natural scattered manner. He seems to be everywhere at once, a virtual perpetual motion machine. Utterly focused on the task at hand, yet able to spot a shivering extra and call out an apology and a reminder that we’re almost done out here. As though the unseasonable chill were somehow his responsibility. As though he even noticed it himself, intent as he is on capturing this tiny moment on film.
Behind schedule as usual Cantiello sends everyone but the last few inside to get warm and, with the attention to detail that will make him a well-known director some day, asks these last few to half-run to the door. There are always people running late for these things he says, so look worried and move quickly, but don’t actually run. After a few takes they’re done and he’s off to set up the auditorium, reminding everyone once again to watch the lights and the wires that are strewn like streamers after a party all over the hallway floors.
Everyone follows the sound of the assistant director’s voice
toward the auditorium. Recommended by Producer Jason Zemlicka who works for
Nickelodeon, Assistant Director and Unit Production Manager Rob Schroeder came
in from
Now the extras are strategically seated in order to make the auditorium appear full to the camera lens. Romero is poised to climb over several already seated audience members to get to his seat and watch his son’s performance and the lights and sound equipment have been tuned to perfection. “Stand by for rehearsal,” says Schroeder, motioning for quiet. “OK, rehearsal’s up.” He pauses for a moment, “Jim?” Cantiello glances around and, seeing that everything is ready calls out, “Action!”