#the accompanist

[isuckatnicknamess]

First look at Aubrey in ‘The accompanist’ that should premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival this year! 🥹 finally! If I understood correctly, more gay Plaza coming our way

[witchingwithscissors]

Yeah, she wants to be slapped, I wanna be slapped… it’s like, I get it - Aubrey Plaza on Susan Sarandon

[dailyzachwoods]

Meeting Zach Woods: How It Happened and Why I Haven't Died Yet

Part One

Read Part Two of this essay.

Going to Tribeca to attend the world premiere of The Accompanist was not exactly … planned. I had a Google Alert set for "zach woods accompanist" and was waiting for any dribble of news; Zach had been working on stuff that was quietly wrapped/entered post-production, such as a new film directed by Tom McCarthy.

Then I saw he posted about the movie debuting at Tribeca.

I thought about making the trip to see it. I asked one of my close friends about going—in fact, the person who encouraged me to get DZW going in the first place!

I was pretty hesitant about attending for personal reasons, which I'm OK with sharing now:

Years ago, I did fundraising online for a well-known charity and ended up invited to one of its major galas in Los Angeles. It was an event I'd never, ever attend on my own. Since it was in LA, the gala would be full of famous and pretty people—which I am very … not. I felt so self conscious about going to this gala, but I knew deep down the trip was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I made myself go, despite the costs and anxiety.

I went to the event, which was black tie. So I:

Wore a fancy dress I bought at the last minute at Macy's

Got a special makeup session done … at Sephora

Ate a three-course meal at a round table with a fancy tablecloth

Walked around during a silent auction, among a sea of pretty people, looking at artwork signed by Madonna

Met a handful of celebrities, particularly: Taika Waititi, Emily Hampshire, Benito Skinner, Jackson Myles, and Bobby from Queer Eye

It was an incredible experience and I had no regrets attending; but up until the middle of the gala, I was incredibly anxious, self-conscious, and felt like I didn't belong there—that I never belonged there, because of how I looked, what I weighed—I was focused on what I was not instead of what I would bring.

So of course, when Tribeca came around, I should have known those insecurities would eventually return.

"I think you should do it," my friend assured me. "I think it could be a lot of fun!"

I hemmed, hawed, wishied, and washied, but eventually I decided to say fuck it! and bought a Tribeca membership to access tickets to The Accompanist premiere sooner than the general public release. Then I got my ticket to the premiere.

A world premiere.

It was my first premiere of anything. I thought about what it would be like in the theater. I researched "Tribeca dress code" and got many results for "smart casual". I stared at photos of celebrities in front of step and repeat banners and figured, Well, they have to look nice. I just need to look like I wasn't living in a dumpster.

It took me a month to figure out my outfit.*

I stressed about the apparel items arriving on time, because of course nothing I already owned would work.

When I first put on the new blouse, slacks, and Doc Martens and looked in the mirror, I started to feel like I could do this. And not just that—that I belonged there! I could totally attend this premiere. Review the film. And if I managed to exchange a few syllables with Zach, great! A pure bonus for the site.

And then! Tribeca announced the damn Storytelling Summit, and Zach would speak at 10:30 a.m. on the day I left.

What a universe. I thought, Okay. When is this going to happen again? The likelihood of DZW becoming a legitimate media outlet wasn't small, but it would take a lot of time and money I don't have. Greater than that, I knew the likelihood of Zach Woods himself being available to the public (who carried a certain attendee badge) was small.

I thought back to his prior public/semi-public appearances:

SXSW (2022)

TechCrunch Disrupt (2017)

San Diego Comic Con for Silicon Valley, Lego Ninjago (2016, 2017)

That one time at Funko Fridays when he wore a Kramer vs. Kramer tee (2025)

Zach speaking at things was not something he usually did. So I once again said fuck it, threw money at my computer, and secured a pass to the summit to attend his talk.

The idea of not belonging nagged at me. I thought about not having a press pass. I had emailed a press contact about one and got no response, which I fully expected. Still, I felt very unimportant.

I shook it off, or tried my best to, as June approached. But then I realized the possibility of meeting Zach twice was … somewhat high, given the anecdotes I read about how kind he was to fans who met him.

I dismissed the idea and started packing. I was going to see a movie and hear him talk about his career in an auditorium. That's it.

Ideally, I would have traveled the day before to get settled, but my schedule was already packed with work and a subsequent trip with family in New England. I took an Amtrak the day of the premiere down to New York.

I went straight to the hotel, and luckily was able to check in early. Collapsed on my bed.

I had a good six hours until the premiere. So I decided to order lunch in, rest, and relax. I ate, dozed, and pondered.

And then, when I put on my outfit? Man, I felt like a REAL REPORTER, y'all!

(Blouse is from ModCloth!)

I decided to capitalize on my surge of confidence and made it to the venue very early, about an hour in advance, despite having a ticket. I wanted the best possible seat. When I arrived, I was about eighth in line. From the queue I was able to catch glimpses of the red carpet with the actors and crew taking photos and giving short interviews.

While waiting in line I recognized Andre Lascaris (the director of photography for The Accompanist, and Zach's primary cinematographer on other projects). I congratulated him, wishing him a nice night—I'll never forget the grin on his face; he was so excited to be there with family members for the debut.

The weather couldn't have been nicer either. There was a really exciting buzz in the air. It wasn't one of anticipation, though—it was celebratory.

The line started to move. I tried to catch Zach over by the step and repeat banners, but there were somehow people as tall as he was blocking my view. I shuffled along and went inside the SVA Theater.

As people arrived to the theater, taking their places in reserved seats ahead of me and along the aisles, I thought, This feels like … a graduation.

I felt wave after wave of "WE DID IT" from my seat before the film even started.

Folks were dressed up and there wasn't a sour face in the theater. When Zach arrived, he had to slowly make his way down the aisle to the front, where he was constantly interrupted by hugs and congratulations from friends, peers, loved ones, and maybe the occasional stranger. I looked on, completely starstruck.

Oh, look! That's just the person you've been covering extensively since late February! In the flesh! Laughing at something someone said! About ten feet away from you!

Oh, and forget about Susan Sarandon and Aubrey Plaza. Christ, seeing them in person was so wild. I did my best to be Cool™ and Chill™ but I suppose there's a first time for everything.

I recognized Paul Carganilla, Everly's father; we exchanged some messages on Instagram earlier that day. I called to him and introduced myself by my handle-slash-pseudonym, and in return I got a very nice handshake and was introduced to Everly (sparkling, absolutely lovely).

Guests settled into their seats and after a small introduction from a Tribeca rep, Zach came forward to graciously thank the team behind the movie, and delivered a really nice metaphor about the effort it takes to make a film, basically comprising of several "departments." He noted the audience counted as its own, final department—our experiences would fill in gaps and understandings as we watched the film, and then the movie would be complete.

Then the lights dimmed. I quickly found my notebook and pen before we all watched The Accompanist while I scribbled in the dark.

In hindsight, I should have taken better notes—by the last wave of applause I was completely overstimulated during the Q&A. I somehow asked a question about how improv/UCB prepared Zach for directing a film, not realizing I was less than a foot away from his mentor, Michael Delaney.

After the Q&A, I recognized more people; I worked up the courage to congratulate Brandon Gardner, Zach's writing partner and another improv master, and very awkwardly walked away as someone he likely knew much better came up to him to offer their congrats too.

Zach was at the very front of the theater, being congratulated. I pushed through the lingering people in the aisle and made my way to him. Theater staff were calmly yelling to people that the theater needed to be cleared out. I figured they meant the "riffraff," like me, but no, they meant everybody. I waited to catch Zach's attention next to a father and son pair; apparently, their home in Jersey was used for filming much of The Accompanist.

Then I had my chance. I called for Zach's attention and handed him a bundled up t-shirt with a letter from a friend. I think(?) I congratulated him? I know I said some words. And then we were walking back to the theater exit.

You're walking in front of Zach Woods. You're fine.

He caught up to my side. I had the nerve to ask, So, how are you feeling?

His response was pleasant, sweet, reflective. What did he say exactly? Couldn't tell you. Everything whited out.

But here's what I do remember:

* Remember that asterisk?! YEAH, HE COMPLIMENTED ME ON MY BLOUSE.

So now I know—if you're going to meet your favorite actor and you have a month to spend thinking about what you're going to wear? Use the time!!!

I was processing so much—the fact that Zach wasn't like, surrounded by the typical entourages I was used to at comic cons and photo ops, blocked off by perpetually annoyed publicists, bodyguards, event staff. No, he was just there, walking next to me at a theater. Walking along at six-foot-four, probably hovering around his own Cloud Nine, having just seen his first directed feature in a room full of loved ones.

(Speaking of: yeah, he's tall. You don't realize it until you look up at five-foot-two.)

After a few minutes of waddling through a hallway, I caught Zach once more when he wasn't cornered by someone and told him about the items I had given him; a very nice fan letter from my friend who lives on the opposite hemisphere, and a very ridiculous t-shirt I had made for the occasion, pointing out the Quentin Tarantino font.

"That's really funny," he said.

And then I said something about the archive. He made this sweet gesture, like when you're looking at a cute puppy and your eyes go AWWWW, that kind of thing?

And then he thanked me and offered me a hug.

And then I gave him a hug and thanked him and he thanked me again for my thoughtful question.

And that's how I met Zach Woods after the premiere of his movie.

Dazed, I wandered away from the theater, occasionally stopping to watch the crowds outside celebrating. There was talk of an afterparty; fans were waiting to get a glimpse of Zach, hoping for selfies.

I would stop and turn and watch the people at Tribeca celebrating The Accompanist's birthday. And I'd see Zach, difficult to miss, just talking and talking and giving folks time. Generous even on what was supposed to be his night.

I'd walk, look back, and he'd still be chatting away, until I turned the corner to get to a diner for much-needed food.

As I ate from a pile of eggs and hollandaise, I kept wondering, "It's all true. All those stories are true."

Zach Woods was the nicest person on earth.

And then I patted myself on the back, because I deserved to be in that dark room with the nicest person on earth, scribbling notes sloppily in a notebook. I worked hard to be there at Tribeca, and I worked to believe I belonged there. So maybe the universe decided to acknowledge that was a job well done. I got to talk to Zach Woods. I barely remember anything I said or he said back but! We exchanged words! He acknowledged my existence! Nothing could top that!

Or so I thought.

[jbthegift]

Good for Aubrey!! I'm so glad she's getting back to live action projects (although the animated voice ones are good too). It sounds like a supporting part from the summary, but she's also producing too :)

[deviika]

Colette, tr. by Matthew Ward, from The Collected Stories; “The Accompanist, //Charles Bukowski

[freshmoviequotes]

The Accompanist (1992)

[romanticbroadcast]

I realized that my mama was my disgrace, just as I was hers. And our whole life was one irreparable shame.

— Nina Berberova, The Accompanist

[quietattic]

So what was his color?

Annette(2021) was defenitely full of Henry's Green and glowed by Ann's Yellow, but what about the Accompanist? It's really hard to find out what is. He once seemed to take Ann's color after she died. He was wearing his (dark) yellowish muffler while conducting orchestra, and he took the yellow cab to visit Henry. Yellow usually symbolizes hope, purity, or something like that. And both Ann and the Accompanist play their roles in the Opera(=pure art). They're like, kinda similar people. Artists. I can't find better words lol (Henry can be the artist, inclusively, but he'd rather be closer to stand-up 'Comedian') But after he decided to join Henry's plan(to travel around the world for showing Annette's singing), his Yellow quickly disappears, as if he loses his own purity.

So what was his? Did he not have one for himself? Because, sadly, he didn't even get his own name, goddamn.

I thought it might be blue and really I can't be sure, but considering his melancholic atomosphere... Blue does fit to him. And we can actually see him clearly covered in Blue in the scene of I'm A Conductor At Heart(the photo above), because the background of Opera Stage was full of it. And he kinda did self-downing in the scene, remember? He looked like he just can't stay in his recent career: The Accompanist (for Ann, well that part would be the only comfort for him) for what he truly wants is become the orchestra conductor. That would show his sensitiveness and melancholy, which fits to color of blue. Plus, it's difficult to recognize but you can see him wearing light blue shirt when he played We Love Each Other So Much through the piano. And that scene? It really fucked me up so well. He really looked sorrowful. He really did miss Ann so much.

I had to think why his color looked as if it doesn't exist from the very start. (I even considered the possibility of Red being his because in the opening credits Simon Helberg's name was written in red, while Adam's was green and Marion's yellow. But no, ironically he was far away from red.)

And while watching the film for the second time I got the vibe that his color was like, swallowed? Because the other colors — Green, Yellow, Red — were so bright that they intentionally or unintentionally hided his? But what I really wanna say is, he's like the character being background or smth. Even when he's killed we still can listen the piano sound as the Soundtrack. His former career also implies his stance stays in background. Damn.

And it became really true that Henry's Green (pool) really swallowed the poor Conductor. Dammmmn.