When we still had a Laemmle Theater in Pasadena – oh, the glory days, when we had three, each focused on a special audience, we especially liked the one showing foreign films, and the one showing independents – filmmakers would come to town to show off their latest, came in person with the film to talk about it and answer questions.

We saw Henry Jaglom films, one after the other, and came to think of him as a regular. His films were independent as was he. He projected “I don’t need to be a slave to any corporate overlord,” and we loved him for his love of cinematic integrity.

We thought of him as a friend. He didn’t know us, but we knew him.

I remember especially his film New Year’s Day. 1989. That’s the one where David Ducovny got to show he could star in movies and was not just X-Files.

It was an exuberance of New Year’s when things are released, the past accumulates into the present and bubbles toward a future.

After the film, Jaglom appeared at the front with the screen behind him and answered questions.

Shirley and I loved the film, loved him for making it, wished more movie makers would make movies the way he did.

One confused guy in the audience stood up with a question. “Do people really act that way like they did in the movie?”

I couldn’t help myself, and blurted out an answer. “It is New Year’s!”

Jaglom looked at me, silently thanked me, and I felt an instant bond.

So every New Year, when I (we) reflect the past into a future I (we) can look forward to, I thank you, Henry Jaglom.

Thank you.

After all, “It is New Year’s!”