So... a tiny Robert Forster story. It feels like the right kind of story to tell, but forgive me if I keep some of the details general, it just feels prudent.
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We get there right as the lights go down. We sit and watch. Everyone who had never seen it is tickled pink. The lights come up, we turn around and who is behind us?
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Quentin Tarantino and a few other big cinephile friends of his. My director friend knows Quentin and they start talking away. So does everyone in their group. Talking about the movie and this and that, everyone talking so fast, so passionately.
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I stayed pretty quiet. Everyone just understood so much about the film and I had deference for all these insane heavyweights. It feels intimidating sometimes, but it's okay to just sit back and listen.
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The someone walked up to the right. Before anyone even understood what was happening, Quentin's face perked up so bright, "Oh, hello sir!" It was Robert Forster.
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It seemed like Quentin had no idea he was going to be there. Meaning Forster just bought a ticket and showed up like a patron because he wanted to. And he moseyed on over, with no assumption whatsoever to say hello.
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And instantly, this entire group of chatterboxes just went silent, same as I did before. They all stared at Robert with adoration in their eyes, knowing how lucky they were that he was here and talking to them.
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Forster talked about the film.He talked about what it was like when it came out, how revolutionary and special it felt at the time, largely because it talked about things that NO ONE was talking about.
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Everyone stood there, rapt with attention. For twenty minutes as he spoke to us, quietly, confidently, with great thoughtfulness. There was a this incredible, quiet command he had. But it was a deeply careful command. Gentle even.
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Then at the first lull in conversation, he said it was unfortunately time for him to head off. He told Quentin it was great to see him again, He shook hands with everyone there. He asked my name twice to be sure he got it even though I was no one. Then he said thank you and left.
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For the next few minutes, all everyone did was talk about how lucky they were talk to the great Robert Forster. He seemed the most unassuming man, one who perhaps never understood the weight he carried with him.
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Or maybe he understood it exactly. And that's why he was so careful and considerate and deliberate with how he talked. But it just made the reverence for him feel all the more earned.
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Robert Forster was a gift. A man who could radiate dignity and decency and a rare kind of stoicism that also felt vulnerable and open. A true gift. And what that night confirmed was simple... Everyone knew that to be true. /end.
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End of conversation
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