On Sunday night I ventured to the Museum of Modern Art to take in Hugo Perez’ NEITHER MEMORY NOR MAGIC as part of their Documentary Fortnight program. The film deals with extraordinary but difficult subject matter — the slow death of the iconic Hungarian poet Miklos Radnoti at the hands of the Nazis during World War II. Yet at its heart the film is a victorious statement about the strength of will and love in the face of devastating adversity. The MoMA has a beautiful theater, and the place was packed, despite it’s being Oscar eve. Hugo paid his own tribute to the crowd with a light but heartfelt introduction, declaring “I’ve always wanted to address a big audience on Oscar night…thanks for giving me the chance.”

NEITHER MEMORY NOR MAGIC tells the story of a poet who continued to write poetry even as he faced almost certain death. Through evocative and lyrical Super8 footage, readings of the poems to represent Radnoti’s account of his life, and interviews with some of those who knew him best and who got to know him in his last days, it reveals one poet’s triumph over the inhumanity of his age –a story previously untold outside of Hungary. The film is co-edited by Academy Award nominees Francisco Bello and Tim Sternberg and is narrated by Academy Award nominee Patricia Clarkson.

After the screening, a playwright, an artist and a revered publisher stepped to the stage to give readings of Radnoti’s amazing work. Here is an excerpt from one poem, which seems to presage the author’s tumultuous end.

From Dawn Until Midnight (1938)

I lived but, always being unskilled in life, I knew
Right from the start that in the end they’d bury me –
That year silted on year, clod followed clod, stone stone,
And that, down there, the bones in cool, worm-ridden gloom
Would shiver in nakedness, when the body had overflowed.
That up there, time would blunder about my work with a drone
As I sank deeper in the earth and into darkness…
All this I knew. But the work: will it have lasted?

After the screening a group of friends and well-wishers went off to a reception at the home of one of the film’s producers. Part screening celebration, part good ol’ Oscar party, an amazing time was had by all, high in the sky above Manhattan. And although I’m a dedicated Oscar-watcher, this year I found myself less than enthralled. I’m sure part of it was the amazing surroundings, part the spectacular company, but most of the night the broadcast and the winners felt obvious and uninspired. I was thrilled to see my personal favorite SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE capture the night, and THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON go home with just a couple technical awards, but not even Heath Ledger’s posthumous win truly moved me. I enjoyed watching Philippe Petit of MAN ON WIRE do his statuette balancing act, and loved hearing firsthand stories of last year’s show from Francisco and Tim sitting next to me on the couch, but I just wasn’t DRAWN to it as in previous years. No desire to bet on predictions, even less desire to argue about the choices. Am I getting jaded? Am I just less and less interested in Hollywood fare, the more time I spend working in independent film? Is it mental backlash against the famed million dollar curtain? To be honest, I don’t have the answer.

Thoughts? I’d love to hear how this year’s Oscars felt to you compared to previous years – interest level, excitement? Maybe after a few of your answers I’ll have one of my own…