Directed by Tony Zierra (2017)
by Francis Friel, The Projectionist

I love Kubrick. He’s one of the filmmakers I consider a true Master, along with Ozu, Ramsay, Godard, Fellini, Fassbinder, Spike Lee (the American Godard, after all) and maybe Roy Andersson. I know I’m not alone in this. But my level of obsession has, at times, threatened to overtake even my more generalized over-arching love of Cinema itself. I have every biography, have read and heard every interview, listened to every commentary track by his collaborators, read and re-read all the Rob Ager articles, sat through the pretty dismal and pointless Room 237 (for the record, it’s not that Kubrick wasn’t encoding his films with hidden narratives, it’s that the theories in that doc have nothing to do with anything he was actually getting at), have seen his stuff in theaters every chance I’ve gotten to do so. I’ve read most of the books his films are based on (I’ve tried but have never been able to get through The Luck of Barry Lyndon despite it being short as hell - Red Alert and Clockwork Orange are the best ones). I love Kubrick. I know Kubrick. So I’ve always wanted a documentary about Leon Vitali.