Marcus Hu on Wouter Barendrecht: A Family Man

On the eve of 9/11, Fortissimo held a quiet gathering of friends and family at the Toronto Film Festival.  That was a defining moment for many of us. It crystalized one fact; we all knew we had our travelling family.  We knew it every time Wouter organized a party or gathering to see us, he’d take the moment to greet each and everyone of us as importantly as the next.

Just last week, Wouter and I were making arrangements for my mother’s annual Cannes dinner.  When my mother had her stroke several years ago, Wouter was on the phone that night at the hospital to check on her.  He flew twice to San Francisco to visit her and would call her from around the globe to let her know of his adventures and to make her laugh. He always spoke of his mother and how much fun he would have with her.

I’ve gone through hundreds of photos of Wouter from the late 80’s when he worked at the Forum office at the Berlin Film Festival and the Rotterdam Film Festival to just a few months ago in Berlin.  I watched as Michael and Wouter built their company up just as my business partner Jon Gerrans and I were building ours.  I laughed as he had to share rooms with Christine Vachon and myself at the Arco Hotel in at the Berlin Film Festival which ultimately resembled the craziest frat house days of the film festival circuit.  I remember crying with him in San Francisco when our dear friend Mark Finch had left this world in the mid 90’s.  I remember when Wouter took my boyfriend and I to try lobster sashimi at a restaturant in Hong Kong that made us blanche as we picked up undulating pieces of meat and put them in our mouths.

The first time I met Wouter in 1988 I knew he was going to be a part of my life forever.  I don’t think there’s a day since then he hasn’t popped into my head, usually with a laugh or a smile. I’ve travelled the globe with Wouter from Asia to Europe to Dubai and I know he’s going to be with me forever.

Wouter’s mischievousness will live inside of me, our grade school running jokes that would leave our dinner table mates either disgusted or rolling their eyes with disdain.  Many know of the running gag (that could last the duration of a meal) that would often start with something like, “George Clooney or Tony Leung?” and would eventually evolve to “Noah Cowan or John Vanco?”  Wouter would respond, “Vanco, he’s more virgin!”