At one point in “The Hanging of Stuart Cornfeld,” the titular filmmaker says one of the things he delights in most in making movies is that point in the story where something was inevitable but still unexpected happens. He mentions this in an interview just after he’s given some advice to director Joan Bofill Amargós that it doesn’t seem like he’ll heed, expecting few will know who he is when as a producer he’s been an unseen hand in so many important films and despite his suggestion, the film refrains from listing the credits at the start when to do so might be overwhelming. It also seems like it would be out of character for Cornfeld, despite what he says, to introduce the film in such a way when affability and a lack of pretense are what made him such a gifted collaborator to so many great directors, running the gamut from Mel Brooks to Steven Soderbergh and Ben Stiller, so when Amargós obliges his wish with a clip package a short time later than when you would expect, the result honors Cornfeld’s knowledge of what an audience might need while delivering it in a way that would delight him too when it’s slightly deviant.
Even before “The Hanging of Stuart Cornfeld” really gets rolling, there’s something tremendously moving about it for those that did take notice of the producing credits for “The Elephant Man,” “The Fly” and “Zoolander” when the producer, who passed away in 2020, entrusted his life story to first-time filmmaker Amargós, who he clearly didn’t mind having an unconventional approach. A champion of David Lynch, David Cronenberg and Guillermo del Toro, who was a houseguest during his financially tough times in the late 90s, Cornfeld loved taking chances on filmmakers and while many documentarians will refer to their biographies as portraits, there is a literal dimension to that here when Amargós will sketch the people he interviews about Cornfeld as they sit in front of him, a demand that some like Stiller seem vaguely skeptical of and a delight for others such as del Toro. It’s all in service to a gallery show that the director plans to stage with scenes from Cornfeld’s life, but the process of putting together the show becomes “the exhibition” as he learns of everyone’s connection to Cornfeld, who became a great facilitator after graduating from AFI, where he met Anne Bancroft and became a producing assistant to Mel Brooks on “High Anxiety.”
This easily have become an aggravating gimmick in the wrong hands, but Amargós allows it to exist as an intriguingly peculiar touch when he, as Cornfeld before him, recognizes the strength in all the storytellers assembled and often steps back to let them cook. (One of the film’s truly great choices is to keep any music to a minimum that would impede the stories and leaves nothing feeling forced, including the general calm Cornfeld radiates as an adherent to the transcendental meditation Lynch introduced him to.) “I hope he told you the David Lynch story…” Soderbergh casually mentions at one point to Amargos, before launching into a tale of who picked up the check at the Bob’s Big Boy in Burbank post-“Elephant Man,” indicative of a breezy quality throughout as wild stories from the sets of “Mimic” and “Tropic Thunder” fly.
You get the sense that Cornfeld would’ve been candid under any circumstances when most say how they appreciated the integrity he had, but everyone on hand seems even more so when the producer finds out he only has a few months to live due to a form of bone cancer. Unusually unfazed by the terminal diagnosis, he doesn’t hold back on creative relationships that didn’t work or when fruitful ones ran their course, a rare quality for a film about filmmaking that doesn’t romanticize the process but remains in awe of when all the right pieces fall into place. They do that here against all odds when “The Hanging of Stuart Cornfeld” is distinguished by its quirks rather than held up by them and although it holds the most obvious appeal to cinephiles, the film will satisfy anyone with a chronicle of a life well-lived and provides Cornfeld, a tireless champion of artists, a way even from beyond the grave to continue to inspire.
“The Hanging of Stuart Cornfeld” does not yet have U.S. distribution.