It was brunch time on a sunny Saturday in New York's West Village. Julian Schnabel, the celebrated artist and filmmaker, was holding court at Sant Ambroeus' main table. The larger than life New York artist was...

We were already on our third beer, looking at tourists sailing on the Aegean when Nikos leaned over the table. "You're not straight enough 'til you fuck a guy up the ass," he said. It was 1991 and that was my last summer at my father's village in Greece.

That...

"Capitalism is not natural, it's just brainwashed into us," Antonino D'Ambrosio, director and producer of Let Fury Have The Hour, a documentary of art as a political statement, as a "creative response," tells me in the foyer of Tribeca's Cadillac Lounge. "Dialogue...

"In 1992, Spain went to her Baile de Debutante. Our country was presented to the global scene," Alberto Rodriguez, the director of Unit 7, tells me over beer and appetizers at the Chelsea Hotel. The film is about a group of cops who break all the...

I saw press crying at Tribeca's pre-festival screenings. Actually, I heard them sobbing in the dark. Old-timers here told me it rarely happens. If ever. "Never." So why was I so "lucky?"

Maybe it's the recession, but the man's isolation in his fight against the "machine" is at the festival's...