"I would love to live my life the way Gilda did,” says film director Lisa D’Apolito about comedian Gilda Radner, the subject of her new documentary, Love, Gilda. “I’d love to find the humor even in challenging situations, though that is not always easy for me to do.”
Few of us, certainly, have figured out how to access the grace under fire that Radner consistently displayed. This loving, funny, and extraordinarily moving film, which makes its UK debut at the Phoenix Cinema, East Finchley on December 9, takes us through the ups and downs of her all-too-short life: the tremendous success she achieved on Saturday Night Live (she was the first performer hired when the show premiered in 1975, quickly becoming a major fan favorite) and with a one-woman show on Broadway; her struggles with eating disorders, which began in childhood and landed her in the hospital at the peak of her fame; the self-doubts that haunted her despite public acclaim (“She never felt pretty,” D’Apolito mentions as one example, “but I think she was beautiful”); and her search for true romantic love.
She finally found such a love, with husband Gene Wilder, but her happiness was cut short: In 1986, two years after marrying Wilder, Radner was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She died of the disease in 1989, one month before her 43rd birthday.
D’Apolito — who has a background in film production and acting as well as in directing — will be present to participate in a Q&A after the December 9 screening; the event kicks off a retrospective of Radner’s work that will take place at the Phoenix through to the end of February.
The director was inspired to make this film seven years ago, while working on a series of videos for Gilda’s Club — an organization founded in Radner’s memory by Wilder and a therapist of Radner’s, Joanna Bull, with locations throughout the US, to support people with cancer along with their families and friends.
In the organisation’s flagship location in New York City, “Gilda’s very present,” D’Apolito notes. “There are murals of her when you walk in. The members are very connected to her. I thought Gilda’s legacy was unique. She was one of the most iconic female comedians, but she also lives on in the world of cancer, helping people every day.”
Finding backers for the film was at times an uphill battle —a nd one of the reasons D’Apolito was given for this resistance is somewhat shocking. “It took four and a half years to finish,” she recalls. “It was hard to get funding. I was told that people didn’t know who Gilda Radner was.”
Love, Gilda is a worthy addition to the body of work that will ensure Radner’s legacy for future generations. Premiering as the opening-night entry for the Tribeca Film Festival in the spring of 2018, the film has since been shown at festivals and special screenings from Sweden to Australia. It features an assortment of letters, home movies, private tape recordings, and interview footage, spanning decades; it also includes pages from journals that Radner kept throughout her life.
These materials made their way to D’Apolito through Gilda’s brother, Michael Radner, a few years after production had begun on the film; most of the items had been in storage for decades until that point. Current comic performers, such as Amy Poehler, Melissa McCarthy, Maya Rudolph, and Bill Hader, appear in interviews to discuss Radner’s legacy and to read from what D’Apolito dubs “the fame book,” an assortment of Radner’s private musings on celebrity.
Some of the journal excerpts are painful: “I’m a rising star with heavy chains attaching me to a hard ground,” Radner wrote while trying to reconcile her fame with her demons. Facing the hospital stay in 1977 for her eating disorders, she wrote, “My picture’s in the newspaper, but my body’s in the garbage.”
Likewise, some of the personal tape recordings Radner made are heart-rending — particularly an excerpt where, faced with another cancer recurrence, she offers various bargains to the powers that be in exchange for renewed health.
Radner’s memoir, It’s Always Something, was published weeks after she died; quotes from the book, which was a bestseller upon its release and remains popular today, are featured in the film. “She was a great writer and loved to write,” says D’Apolito. “Finishing the book before she died was so important to her.” Shortly before her death, Radner was able to complete an audio recording of the book as well; this too is featured in the film. The recording won her a posthumous Grammy in 1990.
“I was very inspired after reading It’s Always Something,” D’Apolito recalls.
“Listening to Gilda’s voice and reading her book and her journals, I realized how insightful she was. She was highly intelligent and always funny, even in the darkest of times. She was an overall good person with a huge heart.” Poignantly, as the film progresses we see that Radner’s cancer diagnosis helped her to put aside lifelong insecurities, value herself more fully, and focus on sources of joy, peace, and inner strength that had been available to her all along.
D’Apolito considers what she would tell Radner if she could: “That she was loved. Loved by anyone who ever met her, loved by her family, loved by audiences, and loved by many people who are going though challenging times and look to her story for inspiration.”
Love, Gilda is at the Phoenix cinema, East Finchley December 9 at 2pm
