Z Channel: A Magnificent Obsession

I was a Z Channel subscriber for over eleven years, and it is supremely responsible for my passion for great movies. It shaped my view of the world by showing me movies from every culture, every era, every genre, and every aspect of humankind, real or imagined. There was no hierarchy on the Z Channel. In one week, one could see everything from "Cries and Whispers" to "Bring Me The Head of Alfredo Garcia" to "Kiss Me Kate" to "Star Trek; The Motion Picture". It wasn't just so everyone in the household could have something to enjoy. It was a gesture of loving permission to open your heart and mind to all kinds of movies, and we grateful Z fans did. Xan Cassavetes' excellent film celebrates the diversity and passion that was the Z Channel by weaving countless interviews with filmmakers and writers, with breathtaking clips of dozens of great movies. Many of those great movies are films very few people have ever even heard of, in fact there were even a few movies that I've never heard of and I've seen around 5,500 movies in my lifetime. How thrilling it was to find out that there still are some great movies out there that I've yet to discover (I was beginning to lose hope)! But that was the legacy that Z's creator/programmer Jerry Harvey gave us: a key to a vast kingdom of treasure. The magnificent obsession of this film's title is that of Jerry Harvey's. His was an artist/poet's mentality, and like most of the great ones, he was unable to cope with the mediocrity of society, or with the imperfections he saw in himself and in others. This film covers his inevitable fall from grace, but in context of what happened to his brilliant dream, one can see that he was pushed a little. HBO, Showtime et al, pushed the Z Channel off the airwaves in 1988, and I can safely vouch for all of us former subscribers, that we all died a bit ourselves when that happened. There never will be anything like the Z Channel again, but with any luck, a new generation will discover Xan Cassavetes' film, and be inspired enough by the clips to seek out some of these films and discover an amazing world that they've yet to even imagine.

NOTE: I just caught this tonight at the LA Film Festival, so I don't know if it will have a theatrical release but if it does, GO SEE IT!!!! I know it will eventually be airing on IFC, but seeing clips from such classics as "The Wild Bunch", "Heaven's Gate" and "The Leopard" on a big screen is INCREDIBLE!

First things first. I LOVED THE Z CHANNEL!

For those of you reading this who are not from Los Angeles or are not yet 30, you do not know what you missed. Imagine a late 60's, early 70's FM eclectic station that mixed Marvin Gaye, Frank Zappa, Charlie Parker, Parisian Ballads, The Rolling Stones and Parliment Funkadelic into their play list. Now, imagine the same kind of eclectic mix applied to movies. Oh yeah, add to that some late night Euro soft-core sex movies and a monthly magazine that provided the kind of insight you now find on IMDb with full cast lists and turkey alerts, 20 years before the internet.

The Z Channel got behind previously unheralded directors, actors and screenwriters and presented them to Hollywood power brokers in their Hollywood Hills living rooms. As much as any other factor, Z is responsible for the development of independent cinema in the USA. I know, I know, the Sundance festival is where it broke out. However, the Z Channel took the Raging Bulls of New York and Hollywood, mixed them with the best of world cinema, and presented them all in a single place where all the people responsible for making movies could watch them. Often times before or during their theatrical run! The imaginations ignited.

Nowadays, you have the segregation of radio and movies into distinct market niches (HBO = top 40; Black Starz = R&B; IFC = Alt rock; etc.) Z Channel broke the mold because the rules weren't in place. The credit for this diversity hangs on a cinephile programmer named Jerry Harvey.

And therein lies the tragedy. Much like an artist who borders on madness, Mr. Harvey's demons were almost always with him. The only escape he seemed to find was in a screening room and obsessively chasing down obscure, forgotten, interesting films. He must have been quite a character. Even the people who felt his wrath stand up for him in this film and accept his cruelness for what it was; a mental illness.

That is a long way to get around to an opinion but here goes:

The interviews are great. The film clips are terrific. The story is worth telling to a wider audience. (Though, as much as I would like to believe there is a theatrical market for this film, its subject may be too narrow.)

However, the film is not completely successful merging the parallel stories presented. The first story is the rise and eventual collapse of Z Channel itself. The second is the life of Mr. Harvey and his eventual crimes. The documentary drops hints that the fall of Z Channel parallels the demise of Mr. Harvey. The financial machinations that went on in the boardroom (five owners in ten years) probably had more to do with it than is presented. I suppose it is too much to ask that back room financing be presented as an interesting story arc but there you are.

Overall, the documentary works. The story presented is not one where all the pieces fall into place like a script. Instead it is a Hollywood tragedy played played out with all the blemishes. If it comes your way, do yourself a favor and see what we have lost.

This fascinating documentary portrays the work and life of early cable-TV programming genius, Gerry Harvey, whose Z Channel had attracted a substantial 'cult' following in metro LA at the dawn of the cable TV era into the late '80s. It is also a re-view/revue of many of the finest films of Z Channel's generation and earlier. The finest, often augmented by the weirdest too (e.g., Russ Meyer festivals and the 'soft porn' of those earlier times).

The biographical portions of the documentary -- Harvey's rise from ultra geek to film aficionado, then exhibitor/promoter, all amidst emotional chaos -- are all very interesting, and also tragic. Even more interesting is the history of how The Z Channel was launched, built, ... and eventually lost.

This documentary presents fascinating stories about movies and filmmakers. Michael Cimino's story is a good example. A good friend of Harvey's, Cimino had earned financial support and a free hand by making the incomparable Best Picture, "The Deer Hunter", and then destroyed his credibility & career by his excesses in filming the underrated Heaven's Gate. Through that time, his life was intertwined with Harvey's, presenting unique perspective on the unfolding events.

Harvey not only knew films, and had exceptional taste; he also had the courage and ingenuity to discover and present films (often 'director's cuts) in relentlessly creative, compelling programming. Excellent and important films that have otherwise been overlooked -- like Bertolucci's '1900' and Cimino's Heaven's Gate -- were shown with success by Harvey. One weekend there might be a Truffaut festival, the next perhaps Spaghetti Westerns or the Marx Brothers. Seemingly no genre was ignored; Harvey trusted his audience to watch with open minds and receptive hearts, to respond to great and quirky films, ...and to spread the word and keep the fledgling channel alive and growing. After his death (portrayed compellingly in interviews within the documentary), the station went into decline -- including the desperate step of incongruently showing sporting events (!) in alongside the great film programming. After all, wasn't that part of HBO's success?! Yikes. So sad.

Yet, the greatest joy of this documentary is neither the biography nor the story of Z -- it is the extraordinary range of film clips from the huge range of programming that the Z Channel broadcast.

The visual quality of the documentary is variable, from great to low-grade. But for me, at least, this technical 'weakness' could not undercut a fascinating tour of movies and a devotee who made his taste count. (Indeed, sometimes the "degraded" video imagery was itself a point of interest and beauty.) With apologies to the pretty good Independent Film Channel and the sometimes delightful Turner Classic Movies, the Z Channel appears far better than any station I have seen. I was oblivious to it at the time, so this film was a revelation to me.

What anyone looking at this documentary needs to know first is .... although the "Z" channel was a Los Angeles based subscription service, almost everything you see now on premium cable and on DVD benefited from this channel's existence.

I came to Los Angeles actually in the late middle to the end of Z's reign. Who knew at that time how important a little channel like this would be and what an impact it would make on the film industry actors, actresses, directors, producers careers?!?! I had no idea it began in the 70's. I had no idea how many films got Academy Award notice because of the showings...but most importantly, I never knew exactly what kind of a person Jerry Harvey was....except I thought he was brilliant.

This film was made by the daughter of a man who's films were shown on this channel - and honestly if I never saw "Z", I NEVER would have known John Cassevettes was one heck of a director as well as actor. That's the beauty of this documentary. That's what Zan wants everyone to understand and she does get that across.

But, as a subscriber of "Z" and not in the "inner workings" of "Z", I have quite the romanticism toward the channel, I've written many reviews on IMDb for foreign films I saw on "Z" and never anywhere else...and in many cases have never seen these films again. I can't even REMEMBER who did what film or the name of them and I wish I could...and I wish there was a running listing in this documentary so folks could see just how influential this channel was. You see, when I arrived in Los Angeles there were only a few cable networks: "ON", "Select" "HBO" "Showtime" and "Z". I HAD to have "Z". I was a "Z" junkie.

Although this documentary seemed heavy on the life of troubled programmer Jerry Harvey, I watched it to see the impact of "Z" on many directors, films, edit and film releases to the masses. This was the beginning of what we have today on DVD's "Directors Cuts" and "Extra Footage Not Seen in Theaters" and "Interview/Extras". Yes, it was Jerry Harvey who started the ball rolling with HIS love and support for film, non cut, non edited,RAW...on the "Z" Channel.

You could not help but fall in love with "Z". I've admitted may times in many reviews, "I matured to life watching the Z Channel". Nowadays, its different. But back in the 80's...before "Brokeback Mountain"...there were SEVERAL films made that would make "Brokeback Mountain" look like Sesame Street. I know, I own a few - and these films were made for a heterosexual audience.

The star actors and actresses and directors to me of the "Z" Channel were Sonja Braga, Rutger Hauer, Renée Soutendijk....Director Pedro Almodovar who introduced a little known actor that oozed screen charisma named Antonio Banderas - too many to name here....too many memories of films that shocked me, made me laugh, made me cry - that were NOT widely released in America if not released at all.

Yes, I saw the 99 hour version of "Heaven's Gate" (it really wasn't 99 hours, but the way the studio slammed it made it seem like it was!) and thought "Ya know, it ain't that bad." I watched through the 5 hour version of "Fanny and Alexander" and understood Bergman. The Tin Drum, Beau Pere, Asparagas, Mondo Trasho ...you name it, they were shown. Versions from R to what is now known as NC-17 and even...X (not porno, but very adult situations.) The programming was genius and yes, that was due to Jerry Harvey and his team. The schedule changed weekly, so you had several chances during that week to see what was programmed. You had "Night Owl Theater" which was very popular for obvious reasons and themes/director showcases. I loved the Director's Showcase which connected Directors from films early in their careers to the most recent. This is where I loved Paul Verhooven Pre Robo Cop. You learned what kind of risks these male AND female producers and directors took.

And the documentary talks about the "Z" magazine. Maybe today folks don't see a big deal about a movie magazine because there are so many of them. But The "Z" Channel magazine that came with your subscription was THE history lesson that went with the film. The Magazine and the Channel were one. A unique thing at the time. As was the interviews with with Chaplain. I have one with him speaking to Tom Hanks and the film "Nothing in Common". I even liked those little breaks.

The documentary misses much...(like the surprise New Years Eve Midnight Movie, etc.) but again, I am more inclined to write and think about the brilliance of the channel and not about the demons of the programmer and the hell the staff went through. Zan's documentary put as much as she could in the little time she had and bless her for it. If I knew, I would have done everything to support the effort. "Z"'s place in history is in its programming while the "juicy" story was in its Programmer.

The ironic thing? Yes, Jerry Harvey would have shown this documentary on the "Z" Channel.

I was a long time subscriber, and the documentary did enlighten me about the man and staff behind a channel I'll never forget. This channel will have many perspectives told, this is one of them, and one that gives you quite an overview.

I am hoping that the next "Z" perspective told ...is told through the eyes of someone like me who learned to love film from every walk of life, every voice and vision, every language, every political side, Women in Film, African Americans in film, Hispanics in Film, Asians in Film...every country because of "Z"'s existence.

I saw this film at the 2004 Toronto International Film Festival. The daughter of the late filmmaker John Cassavetes and actress Gena Rowlands, Xan (Alexandra) Cassavetes grew up surrounded by the culture of film. But in her teens, she began to form her own taste, thanks in part to an innovative Los Angeles area cable channel. Z Channel began in 1974, long before there was a Blockbuster Video on every block, and it showed both neglected American films as well as the greats of European cinema. Xan set out to make a straight documentary about the channel, and in the process found a whole other story.

Jerry Harvey was a film geek's film geek. He joined Z Channel in 1980 after programming films for a local art-house cinema. Under Harvey's direction, Z Channel really took off, competing against heavyweights like HBO. While remaining a local treasure, Z Channel's influence was disproportionate to its subscriber base, since so many filmmakers lived in the LA area. Harvey was a friend and champion of such filmmakers as Sam Peckinpah, Henry Jaglom, Michael Cimino, Robert Altman, and Paul Verhoeven, and was one of the first to show "director's cuts" of such misunderstood films as Heaven's Gate, Once Upon A Time In America, and The Wild Bunch. But he was also a deeply troubled man. His obsessive nature fuelled his work, but it often led to bouts of crushing depression. His mood swings culminated in a terrible tragedy in 1988 when he killed his wife and then took his own life. Remembrances from his friends are still fraught with grief and anger, more than fifteen years later.

While at first, I wondered if I were seeing two films (a portrait of Jerry Harvey, and an appreciation of overlooked films), I realized that the beauty of Cassavetes' film is that she's celebrating the life and achievements of Jerry Harvey by talking about some of the films that he brought to her attention through Z Channel. Not his tragic end, but what came before. So often, when a life ends in tragedy or violence, we only remember that part. Sure, you could call Harvey a murderer. But he was also an incredible film lover and filmmaker's advocate, someone who had a wide ranging influence as well as a group of loyal friends who are still reeling from his loss.

Z Channel only lasted about a year after Harvey's death, and the many people interviewed (Quentin Tarantino, James Woods, Theresa Russell, Paul Verhoeven, Robert Altman, and Jacqueline Bisset among them) seem almost as wistful about the death of a certain era in cable television as of their friend Jerry Harvey.

P.S. It seems fitting that I should end my 2004 Toronto International Film Festival experience with a film about a TV channel that director Henry Jaglom described as "like a film festival in your house every night."