Shake-Up Rattles Film Society

From The New York Times

By LARRY ROHTER

Published: March 31, 2009

At the Film Society of Lincoln Center, an institution that has long seemed comfortably set in its ways, things are very much in flux these days. A new theater and office complex, to open in 2011, is under construction, and six months ago a new executive director was brought in both to shepherd that project to conclusion and to revamp the society's policies and image.

But with the arrival of Mara Manus, who was hired as executive director after six years at the Public Theater, where she earned a reputation as a demanding administrator and nimble fund-raiser, has come controversy. One-quarter of the society's staff has been dismissed or has resigned, prompting concerns about the group's direction. And the Film Society's 3,600 members are waiting to hear what perks they may lose as part of Ms. Manus's drive to run what has traditionally been a low-key and easygoing operation “more like a business,” as she puts it.

At the same time, the market for foreign and independent cinema, which the Film Society, founded in 1969, once had largely to itself, has grown more crowded and varied in recent years. The Tribeca Film Festival, the Brooklyn Academy of Music, the IFC Center, Film Forum and a revitalized cinema program at the Museum of Modern Art are all competing with Lincoln Center for the attention and dollars of cinephiles, who now have almost instant access to even once-obscure films through services like Netflix.

“I thought this organization wasn't realizing its potential,” Ms. Manus said during a recent interview in her office, just across West 65th Street from the construction site. “There is definitely a bigger audience” to be attracted, she said, but to achieve that, “you really need a marketing strategy and to put into place systems and structures and technology to drive our base.”

The catalyst for these changes is clearly the Film Society's expansion budgeted at more than $40 million. Two new underground theaters, with 90 and 150 seats, as well as offices, lecture rooms and a restaurant-cafe are being built on the Lincoln Center campus. In a separate but related project, both Alice Tully Hall and the Walter Reade Theater have been renovated to make their acoustics more congenial to film screenings.

Ann Tenenbaum, chairwoman of the film society's board, said: “We were about to grow by leaps and bounds with this new film center, and that meant we had to address financial, programming and staffing issues. Many people in New York City who love movies have never heard of us, so we knew we had some challenges ahead of us.”

Thus far, the Film Society has raised $31 million for the expansion. No big new contributions directed to the project have been announced since Ms. Manus arrived in September, just as the financial crisis exploded.

“I am confident the Film Society will be able to complete this project,” Reynold Levy, president of Lincoln Center, said. “Will it take a little longer than otherwise? Probably. We're not immune from general conditions.”

For 40 years the organization has offered adventurous cinema from all over the globe. It has introduced some works by foreign directors like Rainer Werner Fassbinder and Pedro Almodóvar to American audiences and has also championed American independent filmmakers like Jim Jarmusch long before they became fashionable.

Ms. Manus, 50, a former Hollywood studio executive who worked for the producers Roger Corman and Ray Stark early in her career, emphasized that she was satisfied with the society's programming, which has sometimes been the object of jokes because of its supposedly academic tone and fondness for geographically based retrospectives. (For those looking for a survey of Slovenian film, Lincoln Center is the place.) But she and Ms. Tenenbaum both indicated that nearly every other aspect of the society's operations is being reassessed.

Not long after Ms. Manus arrived, Film Society supporters whose memberships were expiring suddenly found they were unable to renew. That was a result of a process examining the overall strategy on member benefits, but it generated fears that those privileges would be cut back and complaints about lack of transparency. “Change is really hard for everyone, and the thing about change is that you don't do everything right,” Ms. Manus said. “Communications is one of the areas where we could be doing better.”

Even before Ms. Manus arrived, the society had begun tinkering with the benefits that accompany membership, eliminating, for instance, the privilege of free attendance at its annual gala, which will honor Tom Hanks on April 27. But Ms. Manus said she also intended to make changes in the way tickets are allotted for the New York Film Festival, the main attraction for many society members.

Traditionally, a film society membership, which ranges from a $75 minimum to $1,000-and-up patron status, guarantees the right to buy tickets for the festival. The review process is not complete, but Ms. Manus said low-end donors were likely to lose that assurance.

“We're moving to change that structure, just to allow more people to have access to the New York Film Festival,” she said. “People who have been giving $75 have been taking up a chunk of the tickets when in fact this is the biggest thing we do and we want it to be available to more people.”

As part of what she described as an effort to reduce costs and make the organization more efficient, Ms. Manus has also dismissed seven of the society's 42 employees, in some cases bringing in former associates from the Public Theater to replace them. In interviews, several of those fired complained that Ms. Manus's management style was brusque, aloof and noncollaborative. The employees spoke on condition of anonymity because they were still negotiating separation agreements, which prohibit them from criticizing the film society publicly.

“For some people, my style is not their thing,” Ms. Manus said. “All my decisions were based on serving the needs of the organization,” she continued, and “were necessary decisions to make in order for us to continue to exist.”

Joanne Koch, one of Ms. Manus's predecessors, expressed reservations about the changes. “I don't presume the film society will fail because seven people hired on my watch were fired,” she said, adding, “Their loss will result in a significant diminution of the organization's creative output and efficiency.”

In addition, four employees have resigned. The departure of Kent Jones, an associate director of programming and contributing editor to the society's film magazine who is especially esteemed by independent filmmakers and critics, has generated regret and alarm on film blogs, which have expressed fears that Ms. Manus's Hollywood background will lead her to push the society toward more of a multiplex taste.

“I thought it was time for a change, and I made it,” Mr. Jones, a director and writer who is working with his friend Martin Scorsese on a documentary about the director Elia Kazan, said in a telephone interview. When asked to elaborate, he said, “I don't think I really want to go there.”

But Richard Peña, the society's director of programming and chairman of the selection committee for the New York Film Festival, continues in place. Ms. Manus called him “essential” and said she was “here to be his partner. ” He in turn expressed “excitement and enthusiasm” for the new strategies she is devising to expand the society's audience.

“We have this enormous project, and we're at a real crossroads, so it can give pause,” he said.

But he added, “I'm working for an organization that is totally committed to this new project and to a vision of cinema that I fully share, and we're going to do everything in our power to implement that vision.”