The Circuit

by Dade Hayes
There was a lot of A in Tuesday's Q&A with John Landis after the New York Film Festival screening of his lively Don Rickles doc "Mr. Warmth." Unlike other fests, New York goes way minimalist, with a couple dozen features, a modicum of parties (many of which involve formal attire) and a tight geographic focus. The hub of activity is the Walter Reade, a longtime cinema temple at Lincoln Center that went through a modest, butt-pleasing renovation (new seats!) over the summer. This year's 45th edition of the festival has been a busy one, with five films being picked up by distributors, a starry gala for New Line's 40th anniversary, and the noise and telltale orange netting of construction. A $37 million film center, opening in early 2010, is a big part of the larger Lincoln Center revamp.

But back to the insult king. And I don't mean Rickles. While the well-paced film does wonders for the comedian's reputation and rare genius, Landis had clearly learned a few lessons while directing it. From the beginning of the marathon post-film session, Landis seemed eager for the chance to knock Hollywood down several pegs. But, befitting the self-described "geek" and Hollywood history maven who brought the world "Animal House," he kvetched in a consistently funny way, digressing and telling anecdotes and generally treating it like a disarmingly informal bull session. In the making of his $500,000 doc, which HBO will show Dec. 2, he had to gather clips of Rickles' performances over the years and found it exasperating. "I realize now that when you see footage in documentaries, it's what they could get," he said. Clearances proved a protracted headache, with major studios wanting five-figure fees for mere seconds of decades-old library titles in which Rickles appeared.

The film also winds up being a paean to old Vegas, the Rat Pack days of the Sands and the Desert Inn. It shows the eye-popping marquees of the day ("Liberace! And as a Special Added Attraction: Barbra Streisand"), contrasting that era with the slick corporate megamalls of today. Performers, Landis was shocked to discover, actually pine for the days when the mob ran things. "They felt they were treated better by those killers than they are by the corporate interests," he said. Some of the money clips in "Mr. Warmth" are from the Dean Martin roasts of the early 1970s. "The people who would be there were just amazing," Landis said. "I didn't put it in, but there's a great moment at one roast where Don looks over at Gene Kelly and says, 'Gene, 'Xanadu'?! I'll loan you money!"

When the laughter died down, a woman raised her hand to ask one of the few questions of the hour-long session. "Have you ever considered stand-up comedy?" she asked. Landis shrugged and then digressed a bit more until returning to his subject. "Don Rickles isn't really a stand-up comedian," he declared. "He's a performance artist. He doesn't tell jokes in his act. He just reacts to everything around him."

Dade Hayes is Variety's New York Bureau Chief.