Moose Productions Blog

Facts About Tom

61 years old.
Irish, irish, irish.
Very neat and clean.
Shaves in the shower because it saves time.
Wears button down shirt, gold chain, blue jeans.

possesses numerous expensive suits that he
hangs from the ceiling of his cubicle

6 years
living in a room 7 feet long and 4 feet wide
with a chicken wire ceiling

Everyday Tom Reilly hopes that he can get out of
the White House Hotel.
He doesn’t want to die there.

Tom wakes up by 5 AM. Showers, heads to the bodega next door
where breakfast is $3.

Then crossword puzzles. Tom Reilly lives to play crossword puzzles.
New York Times, New York Post, USA Today
Tom says the puzzles keep him from slipping into dementia.
Tom does at least 4 crosswords a day
and drinks the same number of rum and cokes

Tom sends out applications to positions as an enrollment
coordinator for highschools. But he hasn’t gotten a yes yet.

Three years ago he was hit by a car and got $27,800 in the settlement.
He’s been making that money stretch.

As a young man he enlisted in the navy where he was a radio operator
during the Cuban Missile Crisis. After that he was a minesweeper of the seas.

Out of the military, Tom was a commodities broker on Wall St. He married,
and had 3 kids.
But because of an addiction, Tom lost everything.

He doesn’t even think that he has a drinking problem.

Tom’s daughter recently graduated from law school.
She drives a BMW.

Tom’s sons don’t speak to Tom.

Tom doesn’t pay rent at the White House Hotel
because he serves as the Fire Safety Inspector.

Once or twice a week he walks from the 4th floor to the basement,
checks every light bulb, and every corner, and keeps a log of
violations in his notebook.

Every Tuesday night, Tom plays bingo at the Orange Valve.
He won last week.

Right now, Tom doesn’t believe he can make it out.
He bleieves he will die there.

Go look at the Website for the White House Hotel. They have a funny page of testimonials (which must be edited to disclude anyone who ever had a bad experience).

One of the testimonials includes this passage:

The staff had time for us which was appreciated and i also think they conveyed the easy new york vibe very well - especially mr. pitsburgh steelers cap who isn’t a steelers fan and the super chilled older black guy, i don’t know their names but both very good folk! It was also good to talk to miguel about harlem, u.s and european culture, it’s not every day we can sit about for a few hours talking to people from the other side of the world, all very interesting. I guess the white house was a good place to get to meet local folk, which helps me to get a alot more out of new york than going shopping and some night clubs. Also a true bonus for us was meeting a few of the residents too. Going out for an evening with jeff paz was probably one of the best things we did out here, it was a top night away from the touristy areas with a genuinly good guy. Also the other resident with the long blond hair a la jeff was a good guy, the ten minuite/ half hour we talked to them every day just helped make the trip a better one.

From: Jimmy and Grant
Date: Sunday, June 30, 2002 7:45 PM
To: manager@whitehousehotelofny.com
Subject: RE: Youre stay at the Whitehouse

Here’s some quickie background info about flophouses. I’ll have some more up here soon, but this article gives a little context.

Such scenes have defined the Bowery since the first lodging house opened in 1874, creating a cheap, transient place to stay for New York City’s homeless Civil War veterans. Small cubicles then cost a quarter, and a dime bought a canvas sling for the night, hung from the ceiling of a crowded room. By the early 1900s, the Bowery was lined with flophouses and their attendant whiskey bars, dime museums, theaters, slop joints and some of the first tattoo parlors in the country. By the Great Depression, more than 100 lodging houses dotted the Bowery, sleeping between 25,000 and 75,000 men each night.

Flophouse Redux: A new generation of cubicles goes up on the Bowery.
By Elana Berkowitz
December 3, 2003
NEW YORK PRESS

But don’t put too much weight on Ms. Berkowitz’ reporting. She later writes: “Today, there are only three flophouses left on the Bowery, the last of the others having been turned into backpacker hostels or sold to Chinese businessmen who lease the spaces to arriving immigrants.”

While it’s true that many flophouses have been converted, and the number is dwindling, it still hovers closer to 7. Proof? The author lists the three remaining flophouses, but doesn’t include the White House Hotel…which, if you’ve been reading, obviously still exists.

THIS IS A MUST SEE MOVIE:

Underneath Penn Station, in tunnels that are dark at all times, there is a community of people living in homes they have built from thrown out wood. They tap into rail wires and have electricity. In many cases, the people are incredibly self-sufficient. Marc Singer, a young British filmmaker, spent 6 years of his life making a film about this group of people. In the film, we see the common everyday problems that these people face. We forget that these are “homeless” people and remember that these are people just like us. This film is incredible. So honest and provoking, it is the kind of film that only comes around once.

And in the watching of the film, it is clear that Singer never once considers his role as filmmaker to elevate himself above the subjects of the film. WE MUST REMEMBER THIS ABOVE ALL ELSE. In fact, Singer doesn’t even appear in the film. He allows the people, and their wisdom to speak louder than any well polished written voice over could have. One of the lessons Singer teaches us is that as we are making our documentary about the White House Hotel, is that respect and friendship of all subjects of the film is a must.

For instance, if we were to come across an older man who is about to take a bottle of sleeping pills, we are obligated to stop filming, and try to convince the man not to do it. We are obligated to get help for him. This is a drastic example, but the point is this– We should never be shooting a person who is in a dangerous or bad situation and think to ourselves– THIS IS really Great footage… Instead, if the case is drastic enough, like the sleeping pills, we put down the camera and help out.
The interests of the subjects must come before those of the filmmakers….

One of the other lessons learned from SInger, is that of dedication. He put all of his life into DARK DAYS, and that is why it is such a phenomenal accomplishment. We must and will dedicate ourselves fully and totally to the task at hand. And that may well mean late nights and many months of shooting, many months of editing, many months of struggle. As we begin to envision the film coming into creation, as we believe more and more in ourselves, we will gain the momentum necessary to create the kind of film we want to make. A film that tells the story of these forgotten men. A film that tells the story of these young travelers. A film that tells the story of a neighborhood in flux. A film that tells the story of the cycles of a city.

We believe this film will be great. But we must remember, that the concerns of the subjects of the film will come before the concerns of the film itself. We should be looking for ways to help these men. Ways to improve their problems. We should befriend these men, look at them as equals, not as merely “content” for the film. We must always remember, that despite the time we will commit, they will be the people truly responsible for the magic and beauty that will result.

That’s right, for the first time, tape’s a rolling. And we’ve made some big decisions about the documentary.

First of all, We’ve decided to focus primarily on the White House Hotel.

Why? You ask…

Well, only at the White House Hotel is there a true sense of conflict.
35 older men are “permanent” residents at the White House. Many of them work at the hotel to pay their rent. At one point, the White House Hotel was only made up of men, mostly men who had fallen on tough times. In some cases, midshipmen or transient workers would stay at the White House to save cash before leaving port, but as a whole most of the men had moved in from the streets, or had been recently released from jail.

Now, the White House Hotel is undergoing a massive transition. The majority of its occupants are travelers under the age of thirty. The owner of the White House, Meyer, has recently begun the process of converting the “hotel” from a flophouse into a sweet and clean youth hostel. This change is in many ways fitting, because the neighborhood around the White House is undergoing a similar transition.

The first day of shooting was a good one. We spent about an hour on a park bench with an individual by the name of Thompson. A tall lanky fellow with deeply wrinkled brown skin and only four teeth. When we asked him how he lost his teeth, he responded it was from Pyrea, a gum disease. The cigarettes he smoked as we shared stories may have been a factor too. It does seem that the teeth he has left are strong however.
Old Man Thompson is 68 but looks 86 and has a comforting air. A few decades back, he worked as a trucker and used to drive goods straight down to Panama. His voice is distinctive, wise and yet at many moments laughable.
we asked him about everything there is to ask.
He’s got 6 kids, whom he doesn’t interfere with. 4 of them are out in california. He played sports, and went to a baseball game at Shea about 4 years ago. It was clear to me that when Thompson said he “doesn’t interfere” with his children, that he really means, he’s not involved and may well have never been.
Thompson, like many of the old men we’ve talked to, has a sage-like quality.
When he spoke of friends he said:
“You ain’t gonna have but one friend in life. And I’m talking about a real friend, someone through thick and thin. It’s easy to find someone to pal around with.”
When we asked him what the best part of life was he started laughing and said:

“Living. Shoot man, Living. That and having good health. Cause being rich ain’t worth a damn if you don’t have good health.”

Since Thompson moved to the White House two years ago, 3 men have died. 1 of an overdose and 2 of old age.

After a while, Thompson told me he was headed to the park so we said goodbye.

Inside, we found a British Couple in their early twenties. Talking to them after talking to Thompson was extremely bizarre. It was like watching Late Late Night with Carson Daly after having just seen Schindler’s List. The couple had just finished a 2 night stay at the White House, and were planning their travels to Denver, Co.

They had enjoyed their stay but had only spent their time at the Hotel sleeping.

Such different experiences under the same roof.
It’s clear to see that before long, the White House won’t have any more room for the aging men.

After the brief interview with the British Couple, we got our first opportunity to bring a camera into the rooms of the elder men. It was quite a sight. One long row of doors with cubicles. The cubicles are not long enough to fit a man unless he curls into the fetal position. Sam, who we talked to weeks ago, has the most ornately decorated room, room #167. He’s been sleeping there for the past 8 years. I photographed their bathroom which was old but clean and was greeted by a few stares as men walked past. It was not a feel of danger in the long dark hallway. But a feel of decay. It’s clear this hallway and the men in it are walking history. These days of their lives will soon be remembered as the last remnant of what was once the infamous Bowery.

It’s time to get the ball rolling.

Why are we making a documentary about flophouses in New York City?

3 reasons:

1) Every person has a story. But not every person has someone to tell their story. At the flophouses, there are a lot of strong old men who have seen so much in their years. We want to hear their stories, we want to know their daily life and we want to absorb their wisdom.

2) We feel that flophouses are going extinct. In twenty years, this part of New York City’s infrastucture may have completely disappeared. We want to capture it before it vanishes, in the most rudimentary sense of the word, we want to document the passing of the flop.

3) We are hungry to make our first feature length documentary film. We are young filmmakers. We have made numerous short films, we have a strong creative and journalistic background, and we want to use it.

In our initial research we have found a very compelling lead.

George an old man of 74 lives alone in a flophouse at 106 Bowery.

The current owners are waiting him out.

George will be the first subject of this documentary, which is still in search of a title.

Here’s the article we found: George

Now we only need a Greek translator to speak with George. Shouldn’t be to hard to find, we’re based in Astoria.

As research continues, we’ll make an impromptu list of potential subjects and flophouses to document.
We’ve already gotten the go ahead to shoot at The White House Hotel. It is a beautiful old building that doubles as a youth hostel and a flophouse. The “permanent” residents stay for $10 a night on the somewhat seedier first floor. The second and third floors are reserved for the freshfaced European tourists.

As far as I can tell there are eight, count’em eight flophouses in NYC.

1) The White House Hotel (340 Bowery) Founded 1918

2) The Sunshine Hotel Founded 1922
(There are two documentaries made about this hotel. The first, a radio documentary The Sunshine Hotel
This piece we find to be brilliant. The use of sound to fuel the listener’s imagination is remarkable. It is a triumph of journalistic and artistic work. The second documentary is The Sunshine Hotel a documentary film. It was inspired by David Isay’s radio documentary and has been well received. We, as of yet, have only seen excerpts of the film.

3) The Grand Hotel 143 Bowery

4) Providence Hotel 125 Bowery (founded 1895)

5) Prince Hotel 218 Bowery (soon to be luxury condos)

6) The Andrews Hotel 197 Bowery founded in 1909 Recently purchased by Common Ground to be improved for its residents.

7) The Stevenson Hotel 106 Bowery This is where George is the final occupant.

8) The Prince George 28th St. (This is also owned by Common Ground. A “modern” flophouse.)

If you know of any others, or know of anyone who may be a good potential subject for the film.
Feel free to contact us at graham@moose-productions.com.

Here’s our website: Moose Productions

Hello, and welcome to the first posting of the Flophouse documentary.

First and foremost, I should introduce myself. I am Graham.

Good, that’s out of the way.

The ultimate purpose of this film will be to document the passing, or the impending extinction of what was once a major part of the infrastructure and culture of New York City, the flophouse.

For those of you who do not know, a flophouse is quite simply a place where people go to sleep for the night. People who cannot afford a monthly rent, but who can maintain enough cash flow to stay off the streets, barely.
Not surprisingly, flophouses are inhabited almost exclusively by men. These are men often crippled with addiction or mental illness. They sleep in rooms big enough for one cot and nothing else, rooms that have no ceiling of their own, placed one next to the other, connected at the top by chicken wire. The stories from the flop are often sad, stories of families broken down, stories of estrangement. Many of the men are old men. Wrinkled by time and gravity, their faces are the embodiment of regret and forlorn. In some of our research visits to flophouses, we have found a great deal of men with terminal illness. The men sit next to oxygen tanks, and talk of days they used to spend with family. It’s the last stop for many. A kind of purgatory of silent introspection, until the day the ambulance arrives and they are taken off. The flophouse transforms into a hospice for the marginalized, for the forgotten.

But there are not only sad stories from the flops, there are stories of hope as well. Sometimes old men manage to sober up and find a job, often a job cleaning for or working the desk of the flop itsef. One man I talked to, Sam, looked 75 but was 54, his demeanor jovial– he welcomed my introduction with curiosity. He had been living at the White House Hotel (one of nyc’s oldest flops) for 12 years. He works as a clerk there, and enjoys the feeling of getting his paycheck at the end of the week. We sat on a bench outside of the flop and he watched the passing pedestrians with the slow eye of a man who’s seen all he wants to see. When I asked him if he had children, he said yes. But his warm inviting face stiffened, and it became clear I had hit a soft spot. Soon, he changed the subject, and pointed out an attractive female as she walked past. There is a deep pain and lonliness in Sam, but at the same time, there is a hope.

That’s it for this post.
This documentary is being produced by Moose Productions. We are currently in the pre-production research phase.
This blog will serve as a record of our discoveries throughout the process of creating the film.

Best Regards to All,

Graham Meriwether