News of the death of Ted Pedas this week was one of those moments that threw me back to another era–one that doesn’t feel all that long ago, but in some ways feels like another universe. For those of you who don’t know of Ted, he was at one time the singular most important exhibitor in Washington DC. If you had an independent film and wanted to play in the classiest and best grossing theaters in DC, Ted’s theaters were where you wanted to be.
I first met Ted when I was working for Don Rugoff. I was just a lowly sales person right out of college, and Ted was on the Cinema 5 Board of Directors. Yet, Ted was always respectful, interested and open, to the point where I began to think of him as a friend.
In later years, my relationship with Ted became a cornerstone of my independent distribution career. Cinecom was a startup, but Ted treated us as if we had been in business for ages. If I needed a favor, Ted would always hear me out.
When I started making my film “Search for Mr. Rugoff,” Ted was one of the first people I interviewed, and I learned that just like me, Ted had considered Don to be a mentor. Ted’s involvement with Cinema 5 was complicated as was everything concerning Rugoff. But Ted was there for him at the end, and he choked up several times when talking about Rugoff’s last years in my interview.
In speaking with Tom Brueggemann the other day about Ted (his tribute here,) Tom mentioned his belief that Ted represented the end of an era. He was the last of the powerful regional exhibitors. The following outtake from my film makes that case. Ted talks about how he gobbled up various theaters until he “owned DC.” He also makes a point about how cooperative he and his competitors were at that time. He calls it “old school.” Indeed.

Film Comment sends out a weekly newsletter about what’s going on in the world of serious cinephilia, and this week’s issue contained a nice surprise for me. In conjunction with the release of my film and a podcast that I did with them, they exhumed a piece that I wrote for them in 2005, in which I revealed myself as the author of seven years worth of columns that I wrote under a pseudonym. You can read the newsletter
This is part 7 of a series. You can start at the beginning