Yesterday we went to an event at the Mill Valley Film Festival, a tribute to Rob Nilsson. The event was at a movie palace on the typical old downtown street of a Northern California town, slightly narrow, with quaint old shopfronts. Michael met Nilsson in the lobby. He’s a tall, handsome man of late middle-age, rather hawk-featured, with iron gray hair. The film would be shown, and Nilsson interviewed by Michael, in a typically mutilated old single-screen theater. The balcony has been closed in, probably to allow for another screen upstairs.

The program started with some excerpts from Nilsson films, one of which he’d acted in. (He’s done a good bit of TV work.) The feature that followed was his film, Singing, about a man’s nighttime odyssey through San Francisco’s Tenderloin after a fight with his live-in girlfriend. In the talk afterwards, Michael was in good form. I thought Nilsson rambled a bit.

I might have been prejudiced because I was lukewwarm about the film, though I admit in my diary that there were scenes that stuck with me. Nilsson is an interesting and prolific filmmaker. I wonder if I’d have the same reaction if I saw it today.

As an actor, Nilsson has appeared in everything from indies to videogames to TV movies and series, including BEVERLY HILLS 90210 and MIAMI VICE. One thing I learned from my years of being married to a film journalist is that the actor you see performing a small role (college dean/homeless guy/henchman/hero’s dad, brother or best friend) of a cheesy TV show or movie is often a hardworking artist with a long list of respectable writing and directing credits.