In an era saturated with high-drama cooking competitions and celebrity chef theatrics, a new documentary, John’s of 12th Street, offers a refreshing palate cleanser. This film steps away from the manufactured intensity of shows like Knight Fight and Top Chef, instead inviting viewers into the unhurried, authentic world of a 106-year-old East Village institution: John’s of 12th Street in New York City.
Filmed over a month in 2013 by Vanessa McDonnell, a programmer at Spectacle in Williamsburg, John’s of 12th Street feels like a single, intimate evening unfolding within the restaurant’s walls. From the opening scene of owner Nick Sitnycky grappling with a malfunctioning ATM, emitting peculiar “phone-number dial-tone sounds and roars,” the film immediately establishes the restaurant’s charmingly anachronistic character. This isn’t a trendy, flash-in-the-pan eatery; John’s of 12th Street is a steadfast piece of New York history, where bartenders still dial for the Yankees score on a landline (though, in a nod to modern times, they have since joined Twitter).
A poignant figure in the documentary is Mikey “Two Names” Alpert (also known as Myron Weiner), who co-owned John’s of 12th Street with Sitnycky since 1973. In one memorable scene, Alpert recalls discovering a photograph of 1940s actor Chester Morris, a fixture that remains on the wall today. “My partner was saying, ‘All these famous people dined here.’ And I said, ‘Nicky, they’re all dead!’” Alpert’s dry wit and deep affection for the restaurant are palpable throughout the film. His passing after the documentary’s filming adds a layer of bittersweetness to his mantra, “I love what I do and I do what I love.” The film captures Alpert’s interactions with staff and customers alike, showcasing his playful banter and genuine warmth. However, the documentary also hints at a more complex dynamic, with one waiter jokingly describing the inevitable moment when “Myron does his first fucked up thing to you,” a rite of passage leading to the “dark side” of working at John’s of 12th Street.
Despite these undercurrents, the long-tenured, all-male waitstaff, clad in bow ties, exude a sense of camaraderie. They banter in the kitchen and deliver classic lines with a wink, reminiscent of characters from Real Housewives of New Jersey, assuring patrons about dishes that are “cheese inside of cheese, how can you go wrong?” The documentary subtly captures the diverse clientele of John’s of 12th Street. One patron reminisces about the legendary nightlife of Area and Palladium, claiming Madonna’s early New York days involved his friend just before her marriage to Sean Penn. Another recalls the days when waiting in line to get into John’s was part of the experience.
Adding to the restaurant’s unique character, a waiter quips to a customer, “Italians are the minorities here, I have to tell you. There are two of them.” This playful line underscores the evolving demographics within the kitchen, where mariachi music might replace Sinatra, and cooks converse in Spanish about their children’s charter schools. Yet, despite the diverse backgrounds, a strong sense of family prevails. Chef William “Rene” Heras has been at the helm for 40 years, with his brother Victor crafting desserts for 30, highlighting the deep-rooted relationships that define John’s of 12th Street.
While John’s of 12th beautifully portrays the everyday rhythm of a shift at John’s of 12th Street New York, it intentionally avoids extensive exposition. While scenes like Sitnycky troubleshooting a door hinge offer an authentic glimpse into the realities of running a restaurant, viewers might yearn for more insights from the owner about his decades at the helm. Perhaps Sitnycky could even weigh in on the local legend of John Lennon’s ghost haunting the premises. Ultimately, the film serves as an invitation to experience John’s of 12th Street firsthand. It’s a place where stories are readily shared, no cameras needed. Just remember, when you visit this East Village gem, skip asking for the baked clams without garlic – some traditions are best left untouched at John’s of 12th Street New York.
“John’s of 12th” screened at Spectacle, 124 S. 3rd St., Williamsburg.
