Forget the high-stakes drama of celebrity chef showdowns. A new documentary, John’s of 12th Street, offers a refreshing, behind-the-scenes look at a New York institution that thrives far from the spotlight. While TV screens are saturated with culinary competitions and manufactured kitchen tension, this film, premiering at Williamsburg’s Spectacle Theater on November 12th, invites viewers into the warm, unpretentious world of John’s of 12th Street, a beloved East Village restaurant with over a century of history.
The reviewer of the original article, confessing a weariness with the performative aspect of food television after years of Top Chef recaps, found solace in the film’s down-to-earth portrayal. Instead of staged drama, John’s of 12th Street captures the genuine rhythm of a month at the restaurant, condensed into what feels like a single evening. Directed by Vanessa McDonnell, a programmer at Spectacle, the documentary immediately establishes its old-school charm. The film opens with longtime owner Nick Sitnycky grappling with a distinctly un-modern problem: his new ATM making strange dial-tone noises. This sets the tone for a film that celebrates the restaurant’s timeless appeal, where even checking the Yankees score involves a landline and a phone service, a charming contrast to our hyper-connected world. (Though, as the original article playfully notes, John’s of 12th Street has since ventured into the realm of Twitter, showcasing a touch of modern adaptation within its classic framework.)
One of the most endearing figures in John’s of 12th Street is Mikey “Two Names” Alpert, also known as Myron Weiner. Alpert, who sadly passed away after filming, recounts purchasing the restaurant with Sitnycky in 1973. His anecdote about dismissing the fame of past diners – “Nicky, they’re all dead!” – with a photo of 1940s actor Chester Morris on the wall, perfectly encapsulates the restaurant’s long history and grounded perspective. Alpert’s philosophy, “I love what I do and I do what I love,” becomes a poignant thread throughout the film, highlighting the passion and dedication that permeates John’s of 12th Street. We see him engaging warmly with staff and chatting with customers, embodying the welcoming spirit of the restaurant. However, the documentary also hints at the complexities of his personality, with a waiter joking about the inevitable “fucked up thing” and subsequent “piece of shit” treatment that every employee experiences, adding a layer of real-life nuance to the seemingly idyllic restaurant setting.
Despite these hinted-at workplace dynamics, the film portrays a staff that functions like a family. The long-tenured, bow-tied waiters, all men, are shown joking around in the kitchen and delivering classic, slightly cheesy lines to customers, reminiscent of a bygone era of New York dining. Tales of Madonna sightings at clubs like Area and Palladium from patrons further ground the restaurant in its East Village context, a place where neighborhood history and personal memories intertwine. Even the kitchen staff, while predominantly Spanish-speaking and playing mariachi music instead of Sinatra, reinforces this sense of family. Chef William “Rene” Heras’s 40-year tenure and his brother Victor’s 30 years as dessert chef underscore the deep roots and familial atmosphere within John’s of 12th Street.
While John’s of 12th Street excels at capturing the day-to-day flow of the restaurant, the original review points out a desire for more in-depth exploration, particularly regarding owner Nick Sitnycky. While scenes of him troubleshooting a door hinge are charmingly authentic, the reviewer yearns for more insight into Sitnycky’s decades at the helm of this East Village landmark. Questions linger – perhaps even about the rumored ghost of John Lennon – that remain unanswered. However, the documentary’s strength lies in its invitation to experience John’s of 12th Street firsthand. As the review concludes, the restaurant and its staff are still very much present, ready to share their stories and offer a genuine slice of old New York hospitality, no cameras necessary. Just remember to specify if you want garlic with your baked clams – some traditions are best left untouched.
“John’s of 12th” screens Nov. 12, 16, 22, 28, and 30 at Spectacle, 124 S. 3rd St., Williamsburg; all shows $5
