4 stars out of 5
A nice documentary double feature might be Koch and Helvetica, because the font is all over this movie. Not just on the subway signs that are a seemingly integral part of any movie shot in New York City, but also in Ed Koch’s old campaign materials and even the on-screen text.
This is a well-made, well-researched film, blending file footage, vintage photography, and current interviews and event footage with many (if notably not all) key figures from the Koch era, including several top journalists. And Koch gets to make his own case. Coming out immediately after his death, the movie is ultimately a nice eulogy for the man, though it certainly doesn’t sugarcoat his legacy. His difficult relations with the African-American community are highlighted, as is his general inaction in the early days of the AIDS crisis. But the film also points out the big advances for gay rights his administration made and how relatively smooth that was, contrasting with contemporary happenings in San Francisco. (Koch’s own mysterious sexuality is given a fair amount of screen time.) The mayor’s wide-reaching housing program gets belated praise—and it’s pointed out that the great self-promoter oddly failed to tout those successes.
Pastor Calvin Butts, who in the end comes across as a Koch supporter, labels the mayor an opportunist, and that seems pretty accurate. He courted support when he needed it, abandoned it when he didn’t, and finally paid the price, when scandal among prominent backers resulted in Koch’s political undoing.
Overall this is a fascinating portrayal of a complicated person: outspoken, funny, not interested in your opinion, liberal, conservative, and really craving that spotlight. And when he’s not basking in it, we see how very alone Koch was. The movie is nicely bookended by the debate and the eventual renaming ceremony for the Ed Koch Queensboro Bridge, and it’s fitting: The man who always wanted to be in the papers, the man who wrote his own tombstone, certainly was thrilled to have his name on a bridge.
So, the perfect mayor for yet another compelling chapter in New York’s history. Now he’s gone too, and the city keeps evolving. The only thing that remains is Helvetica.
Jack Silbert, curator