Vale David Stratton AM
In Loving Memory of Georges Nasser
Two Pioneers, One Memory: In Tribute to David Stratton and Georges Nasser
By Jessica Zeait
In August 2015, I walked into De Vine Food & Wine, a cosy little restaurant on the corner of Clarence and Market Street in Sydney, on one of those crisp winter afternoons that feel made for deep conversation. David Stratton — Australia’s most celebrated film critic — was already there, seated at his usual corner table, warmly greeted by the staff who clearly adored one of their favourite regulars.
We ordered pasta, poured glasses of red wine, and settled in to talk about cinema — its history, its future, and the way it reflects the world.
David had a way of connecting time, place, and film like no one else. In our interview that day, he said something that has stayed with me:
“If you have a really close friend that you’re fond of, why would you not visit them once a year at least? That’s how I feel about films. You learn new things, but there’s also something wonderful about them being exactly the same as the first time you saw them. It’s like visiting old friends.”
It’s a rare perspective, and one that speaks volumes about how David saw cinema — not just as entertainment, but as a living archive of humanity.
David Stratton and I at De Vine, Sydney 2015
Fast forward to 2017, and I found myself in Cannes, sitting beside another giant of cinema: Georges Nasser, the Grandfather of Lebanese Cinema. I had first met Georges in Tripoli, Lebanon, and now, at 90 years old, he was here for the 60th anniversary screening of his groundbreaking film Ila Ayn? (Where To?), the first Lebanese film ever selected for the Cannes competition back in 1957.
We were in the Festival de Cannes pavilion, surrounded by the buzz of the world-renowned Cannes Film Festival. Georges and I were talking about the power of cinema when I pointed out that another Cannes Classics screening was happening that year — David Stratton: A Cinematic Life. I told Georges about David, calling him Australia’s own pioneer of cinema culture, and said, “I wish I could introduce you two — you’d love chatting to each other.”
And then, as if God had overheard me, David walked around the corner. In a heartbeat, my wish came true. I introduced them, and they immediately began talking about mutual friends, old films, and the shared love that had shaped both their lives.
David Stratton & Georges Nasser at Cannes Film Festival 2017
In all my years co-directing the Lebanese Film Festival Australia, this remains one of my most treasured memories — bringing together two people I deeply respected, whose work had shaped my own love for cinema.
Both David and Georges have now passed on. But what they left behind is far greater than their absence. They gave us films, stories, and wisdom that remind us why cinema matters — not just as art, but as a way of remembering who we are.
When I think back to that winter’s day at De Vine and that summer’s day in Cannes, I realise that I was lucky enough to see two eras of cinema meet — two old friends who didn’t know each other yet, but spoke the same language: film.
And for me, that’s the magic I’ll carry forward.
(Photos: David Stratton & Georges Nasser at Cannes Film Festival 2017; David Stratton and I at De Vine, Sydney 2015; Georges Nasser and I in Tripoli at the Opening Night of the Tripoli Film Festival in Lebanon, 2017; Georges Nasser and I at Cannes Film Festival 2017)
