Lots of stories to tell regarding the journey that led to LADY IN WHITE.
In 1996, my dear friend Fir Suidema, who produced and distributed the very first CD release of my original score for LADY IN WHITE, invited myself, my significant other David Groch Tochman and the “Lady in White” herself, Karen Powell, to Amsterdam. The event was the AMSTERDAM FANTASTIC FILM FESTIVAL, of which Fir was one of its founders. LADY would be screened in a retrospective of earlier produced films and not in competition.Some of the other filmmakers present for that wonderful week were Stuart Gordon, Brian Yuzna, Clive Barker and DARIO ARGENTO.
One of the highlights of the many delicacies of cultural significance that took place happened at the TUSCHINSKI THEATER. A Nouveau architectural wonder built in 1919, the Tuschinski was also famous for its having built a ROYAL FOYER within the auditorium, in 1977, so as to host the Dutch royal family (Queen Juliana, Prince Bernhard and Princess Beatrix) for the grand premiere of “Soldier of Orange.”
Fir took me to the Queen's seat and asked if I would like to try it out. I did. And for those who have thought of me as worthy of the crown (in gay terms) here's the proof of that!
One day, a breakfast was arranged for myself and the aforementioned DARIO to meet. At the time, my Italian was barely conversational so we mostly nodded in agreement or disagreement with each other (or at least I did.)
Breaking bread with this guy was like dining with a corpse. Deep, sunken eyes and white as a ghost, his long salt and pepper colored hair just hung there like a well worn mop.I brought up my screenplay, HANDS, an original thriller I was hoping to set-up as a co-production between the U.S. and Italy and told him that I would be going to Florence after the festival to visit with friends. He suggested that I come to his office in Rome to discuss the project in more detail. We set a date and time.
When I arrive at his office in Rome, I'm greeted by three guys who have no idea what's going on. I do my best to explain to them that Dario and I had met in Amsterdam the week before and that we had arranged to meet on this very day and hour where we all stood. They asked me to wait a moment as one of them dialed up the “maestro.”
The conversation, in Italian, went something like this:
Caller: “LaLoggia. Si chiama LaLoggia. E una regista. Avete conosciute in Amsterdam!” (His name is LaLoggia. He's a Director. You met him in Amsterdam!”) Dario: “Come?” (Who?) Caller: “LaLoggia!” Dario: “No lo conosco.” (I don't know him.) They hang up.
The caller and the other two guys embarrassedly approach me with an apologetic look in their eyes. As if they've been through this routine before. “I'm sorry, Mr. LaLoggia but Dario is not feeling well today.” So, I leave.
And before I leave you, dear reader I 'd be remiss not to tell you that my significant other, David, brought home to California two treasured mementoes of our trip to Holland: A close to 20lb hunk of Dutch Gouda that was devoured with great glee and an enormous pair of KLOMPEN, the famous Dutch wooden shoes of lore.
The KLOMPEN served me well in making fake Bigfoot tracks on my occasional hikes in Malibou Creek State Park and pointing them out to unsuspecting hikers who inevitably made a 180 and returned from whence they came, post haste.
AN ELEPHANT NEVER FORGETS: YOU CAN SHOVE YOUR “SUSPIRIA” UP YOUR “REAR-EE-YA.”
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