Metropolitan by Charlie McSpadden “We’ve met before, haven’t we?” asked Whit Stillman, blazerclad despite the summer heat, on a West Village street corner in July of 2010. Though I hadn’t—that day marked my first as an assistant on his recently released film, Damsels in Distress—it certainly felt like I knew him from his wry and deeply personal films: Metropolitan, Barcelona, and The Last Days of Disco. Though he’ll be the first to denote the separation between his opinions and those of his characters, one can’t help but note that (more than) a few of his traits inform his endearing fictional creations. I was fortunate to experience this firsthand, when, in the middle of the Damsels shoot, an unexpected surgery left me apartment-bound for a week,
1990 immobile, recovering, and aching to return to set. A buzz at my door brought a care package of books and films, with a handwritten note from Whit wishing swift improvement. Much like the sentiments of Metropolitan’s Tom Townsend and Damsels’ Violet, I agree that handwritten notes are rare and to be cherished. And the same goes for Whit’s exceptional and distinct voice in film. Whit brings welcome honesty and nuance to a world prone to caricature, and rewards his audience with deft insights on the vulnerability and social discomfort of youth. Luckily, I felt neither of these adolescent afflictions upon returning to Whit’s set, but instead, refreshed and grateful for his words and generosity.