Reg Hartt
A little while ago, I saw a film at Reg Hartt’s Cineforum in downtown Toronto. Not only was I looking forward to the movies he was showing, but also to the supposed brilliance of the man himself. Ha! Little did I know what a complete jackass he was. Oh wait, apparently he loves to be told that by his critics. Alright, how about… pathetic jackass.
He said don’t let yourself be judged, don’t listen to others, but he was always looking up at us expectantly, uttering “you know?” at the end of every sentence, as if he wanted some sort of approval from us, some outward agreement that he was as brilliant as he said he was. He told us to work for ourselves, not for others, and to do things to satiate a lust rather than to bring in a paycheck. Yet, everytime he measured success, either his or that of others, it was measured in terms of fame and money, not satisfaction. And believe me, he couldn’t say enough about his own success. I felt like I was watching a Reg Hartt commercial.
How am I supposed to respect a man like that? Next time I go (if there is a next time), I’m coming late. Better to avoid his “I’m the greatest man in the universe and I didn’t even go to university” lecture.