Young American Bodies

I haven't seen a soap opera since my sister (doubling as babysitter) forced me to watch a summer's worth of All My Children back in 1983, but Young American Bodies, Joe's Swanberg's new web "soap opera" series for Nerve, might have me tuning in week after week. In case you're unfamiliar with Nerve.com, it's sometimes summarized as a cross between Playboy and The New Yorker, which I suppose is the way we describe things that are "sexy" and "literate" these days. (How depressing it is that those two words like those have been branded? And how depressing is that the brands are those two publications? Alas, I digress...)

In addition to muting the melodrama and the sentimentality of typical soaps, Young American Bodies is graphic and frank when it comes to "adult situations". Instead of cutting to that commercial for Cheer, or Joy, or All, we get some very matter-of-fact male and female nudity, sexy and otherwise. These episodes are for mature audiences and probably not safe for the workplace.

No, it's not porn -- not even close. First, only the nudity is graphic. The sex is not. Secondly, the emphasis is on characters and emotions. The episodes I've seen show people as they often are -- emotionally ambivalent, confused, and at turns opportunistic and thoughtful. Swanberg's interested in sex mainly as a way of talking about intimacy (or the lack of it) and that's ultimately what makes the show worth watching.

In sum, if you're not familiar with Swanberg's work Young American Bodies is a good introduction, at least until you have a chance to see LOL or Kissing on the Mouth.

Transcription Tools for Mac Audio/Video

Here are two useful transcription tools for Mac users: First, there's Inqscribe, which lets you watch your footage and transcribe it at the same time. No more switching back and forth between applications, or using two computers. Haven't tested it, but it looks promising. Free trial for 30 days, then $69.

The second is Transcriva, which is an audio only transcription tool. Same as above, but no video. I used this to transcribe the Joe Swanberg interview from a few days ago, which I had recorded using my iPod and iMic. It works like a charm. Cost: $20.

Red Round-up

Details on Jim Jannard's Red camera surfaced today. If you don't know about Red, you've probably been off-line for the last few months. It has been -- and continues to be -- developed as a radical, iconoclastic digital cinema camera. Many people are saying this could be the biggest step forward since the DV revolution in the early 90s. Could it be so? Possibly. The camera has yet to be manufactured, so until we see footage, let's keep our socks on. On paper, though, it must be said: Red doesn't look like "a step up." It looks ground-breaking -- from specs to its physical design.

Some people have suggested that because Jannard & Co. haven't been in the day-to-day business of camera manufacturing that this won't work. In fact, the opposite is true. Revolutionary technology usually springs from mavericks and Red is, in essence, a hacker project by a maverick with the DIY spirit. The notable difference, of course, is that Jannard has a ton of resources to put into R&D. Anyway, we're rooting for its success.

Red resources (as of 4/24):

Red - Official Site

DV Info Red Forum

DVXUser Red Forum

Red Camera Wiki

StudioDaily interview with Jim Jannard

DV.com interview with Ted Schilowitz, head of the Red development team

UPDATE:

Red Camera Company Wikipedia article

Shooting Modes on Red (HD for Indies)

"Red Day 1 Report" from HD for Indies

Images from Red announcement (via DVInfo)

Undiscovered Gems

If you didn't read indieWire's press release about the Undiscovered Gems series, you should check it out. Basically, the series aims to be a mother to those motherless children of the independent film circuit -- those independent films deserving of an audience that somehow never manage to secure a distributors. The initiative is a partnership between Emerging Pictures, the New York Times, IndieWire, Sundance Channel, and the California Film Institute. The venues include:

Cinema Village (New York, NY) Market Arcade Film and Arts Center (Buffalo, NY) The Loft (Tucson, AZ) Christopher B. Smith Rafael Film Center (San Rafael, CA) Theatre N at Nemours (Wilmington, NC) Cinema Paradiso (Ft. Lauderdale, FL) The Duncan Theatre at Stage West (Lake Worth, FL) Island Theatre (Martha's Vineyard, MA) Mary Riepma Ross Media Arts Center (Lincoln, NE) Circle Cinema (Tulsa, OK) Scranton Cultural Center (Scranton, PA)

Commentary: Because most of these venues aren't in places that are "major markets", releasing will be cheaper. This means more venues, more potential moviegoers -- a good thing for audiences and filmmakers alike.

I am, however, deeply troubled about the contest aspect of the series. According to the press release, "an audience prize competition will provide the winning filmmaker a cash award of $50,000, theatrical release in New York, Los Angeles and at least five other U.S. cities during 2007, as well as an exclusive broadcast on Sundance Channel."

It seems wildly unfair that audiences in a few select places essentially determine the viewing options for other audiences halfway across the country! Especially when those places are so culturally and geographically different! Just think -- the good people of Los Angeles will have their moviegoing choices dictated by folks in cities like Tulsa and Scranton! What an outrage!

Oh wait. This already happens everyday. Just in reverse.

All joking aside, congrats to the "filmmakers whose undiscovered gems" will be distributed. And if you're in a city with a venue listed above, enjoy the show.

The LOL Team: SRF Interview

The biggest joke in LOL, Joe Swanberg's second feature, may be the one that the filmmaker plays on the audience. Neither romantic (though there's plenty of frank sexual content), nor a comedy (though there are many funny moments), LOL feels less like the rom-com that its title suggests and more like a digital age mash-up of Jean Renoir's Rules of the Game and David Cronenberg's Crash "“ on the one hand, a humanistic, if occasionally bitter, social critique disguised as an ensemble comedy and, on the other hand, a chilly, unsentimental look at the ways that our fascination with technology (in this case, cell phones and the internet) keeps us apart when it's meant to bring us together. While Swanberg's lo-fi digital images and casual sense of plotting may not achieve the cinematic heights of either of the aforementioned masterworks, LOL has a charm all its own. Some of that charm, no doubt, is a product of its production history: The whole thing was made by Swanberg and his friends in Chicago without a script for a mere $3000. What's even more impressive, though, is how the movie starts as a comedy of awkwardness and gradually molts into a bleak satire with a mature, dramatic punch. For this, credit goes to the non-professional performers and Swanberg's sharp editing of his improvised source material.

After premiering in March at South by Southwest (where it was very warmly received), LOL had its East Coast premiere at the Philadelphia Film Festival. The night after its first screening in Philly, I had dinner with Swanberg and two of his collaborators, Chris Wells and Kevin Bewersdorf. All three, as actors behind the improv, are credited as "co-writers." (Bewersdorf also composed the soundtrack.) Among other things, we talked about improvisation, choosing one's collaborators, and making a feature on the cheap.

Here's some of that conversation:

Kevin Bewersdorf: The process [of making a film with Joe Swanberg] is basically just maximizing accidents. Make as many accidents happen as possible because the accidents will be genuine. Sometimes it's a technical nightmare because Joe will just be like, "Alright. We step out here. Here's the mic. Let's just start shooting. Let's just go and do it. Let's just do it." And I'll be like "No, wait, Joe, I mean, the light's not enough here. We're not going to be able to hear the mic." And Joe's just, "No, let's just go. Just shoot, just shoot."

Chris Wells: I feel exactly the same way. We did the phone sex scene, before I knew it the camera was rolling and I was already sort of doing it. Joe didn't give me any time to think about it, which is probably better. I think that's how Joe can get performances [as good as those he gets]. People don't think about it.

So: How do you maximize accidents?

Joe Swanberg: Well it's something that I just realized on the first film [Kissing on the Mouth] that I was making. Things started getting knocked over. And I started thinking about how nothing ever gets knocked over in movies. So in my first movie, multiple times, somebody will open up a cupboard and something will fall out of it. Or they'll do something and a thing of laundry detergent will get knocked off of the washing machine. Or I'll accidentally bump the table and a thing will fall over on it. And so then I started thinking, "Why don't things ever fall over in movies?" They do, but then they don't use that take.

Kevin: So it's not really accidental, in that you choose to use the take where the accident occurred. It's deliberate.

Joe: Yeah. Right. But I specifically set up a scene with enough misinformation that people are going to have to invent things that aren't there. I'll explain a scene to a point, but then I'll leave crucial information out so that the actor will have to actually be thinking while they're in the scene. They can't just go through it [pre-rehearsed]. As Kevin was saying [at the LOL Q+A at the Philadelphia premiere], the second or third time [you do the scene] then you start to react to what you did the first time. But the first time there's gotta be stuff that both of the people don't know so that they have to be on the spot and think of it. For instance, I put Kevin and Tipper [Newton, who plays a girl named Walter] on the porch and I said, "Tipper your parents live in St. Louis and, Kevin, you're trying to get to St. Louis. Now go!"

Kevin: Or, for example, in the scene where I'm going to film Tipper making noises, you didn't tell Tipper that's what I was going to do. You said to Tipper, "He's going to ask you to do something. Do it. And Kevin will film it." So it's about keeping people in the dark just enough.

Joe: ...enough that they're comfortable, but not enough that they know what they're going to do before hand.

Because if all you say is, "He's going to ask you to do something," then she might say, "no" in the scene. Instead, she knows she's gotta say "yes", but she doesn't know what she's saying "yes" to. And that keeps the way she says it fresh.

Joe: That's a good point. If you leave it totally up to chance, it could go horribly wrong.

Kevin: You have to have the skeleton set up. But you don't know how anything hangs on it. Chris: I feel like with my [scenes] it was interesting because I kind of knew the direction the scenes were going to go, but Greta [Gerwig, Chris' co-star] didn't. And I was really talking to her on the phone. So I would just call her up in the middle of her day and she'd start talking to me and I would know where the scene was going to go and she wouldn't, but it would have to go in a different direction because I was reacting to her lack of knowledge. So what I thought the scene would be would end up being something completely different than what I expected.

Joe: But she always knew we were filming. Otherwise, that's exploitation, and that's not what I'm interested in. I want everybody to be aware of the process and aware that it's happening, but unaware of certain crucial information.

Kevin: The other important thing is that Joe's whole style as a director is to be completely invisible. He gives NO direction. His direction is either "Yes it was fine" or "No, do it again." No other direction at all of any kind. Not "do this in this way." Or "More feeling." Or "Slower." Or anything. It's either working or it's not working, and if it's not working we continue to do it. And if it is, then it's fine. And that's why, for some people, it's awful.

Joe: Well, for professionals, it is.

Kevin: And that's why you can't use professional actors. Because unless they're being told what to do they don't know how to feel, they don't know what to do. Because they have all these little tricks and techniques in this little bag of tricks that they've learned. I mean I have great respect for actors, but with non-professionals you can't tell them what to do because then they'll be acting, and then they'll be bad actors. If you have non-professionals and you tell them nothing, then they won't be acting.

Joe: I like professional actors, just not in my movies.

Does it not strike you as unusual that you've found people that are willing to work so hard for you? Joe: No, because it's a backwards process. I cast people who... I found the people and then we found the movie. I didn't have the movie in my head and then I found the people. So really, had I been working with Chris and had he not been in that relationship with Greta that was like that, then the movie would be different because his character would be different. To me it seems perfectly natural that the movie ends up the way it is because I cast the people first and then we all make the movies together. LOL is the only way LOL could end up being. It's these specific people, at these specific points in their life, and this specific point in time, with this technology. There's no vision before it starts.

But on a bigger level, you found people that for six months are saying, "I'm coming along for the ride. And I don't know where it's going. And I'm going to do this." That is what is amazing. This is not something to take for granted. Joe: I don't know. I'm lucky I guess. I can't answer because I have no technique or method other than saying, "Please help me" and then people help me.

Chris: Joe's movies are all so fun for because he's making them out of your own pocket, with his own money.

Joe: I think that is a nice level to it. I'm losing money [making films]. I'm not making money on it. There's a different vibe to everything that happens.

Kevin: People know that Joe is not profiting, that Joe's not just using us. No one feels used because everyone knows that Joe isn't like some Hollywood dude saying, "Hey want to make me a million dollars and be in my movie for free, Trix?"

Chris: There's a huge level of comfort of working for someone who knows he's going to lose money -- he's taking the hit for it -- and just wants to do it because he really, really wants to do it.

It almost has this sort of innocence of those movies from the Thirties where the characters are like, "Hey, let's put on a show!" Because you're all going to do this, you're doing it because you want to tell a story. And you don't even know which story.

Chris: We all start out with friendships I think. Joe knew Kevin from high school. Joe and I have known each other for the last couple of years, and while Joe didn't know Tipper that well, everyone becomes friends through the process of making the movie.

Kevin: I thought LOL would suck. Even until I saw the rough cut. I thought LOL would be terrible. I still did it just because it would be fun to do. I'd get to hang out with these other people. It was like a sport, almost. Like hunting.

Joe: And if your team loses at the end of the day then.

Kevin: . it's a fun game. I didn't feel like I had that much to lose. And being skeptical in the whole thing from the beginning, felt like, if it was bad, well, I was skeptical all along. so I was right. (laughs)

Chris: The movie was made almost like [writing a] paper. There were a lot of different drafts of it. It wasn't like a traditional movie where to go back and to do re-shoots is a big deal, or costs a lot of money or is really difficult. Because for Joe it's no more difficult than anything else he ever shot.

Joe: I was editing as we went anyway.

Chris: Yeah, exactly. I got a copy of the movie in November and I watched it through as it was, and I was like, "Well, my character needs a scene here and here and here, and this is what these scenes need to be." And then we could go back and weave that into the story and just make sure the continuity matches, and then its like we intended that from the beginning.

Joe, one thing you mentioned at the Q+A at the Philadelphia premiere was that while shooting the film is a collaborative process, ultimately the process ends with you, in your bedroom, editing alone.

Joe: That's the one aspect where I'm not really looking for collaboration. I show the movie to Kevin and Chris along the way so that they can tell me what's working and what's not.... I'll always do the first pass without showing it or asking anything like that. And I feel like that's where the director credit comes in. Technically, LOL will always say a film by the three of us, but I think my editing is where I'm doing my directing. Not on set.... Editing is really fun for me. It's the part of the process that I'm most passionate about.

Talk about the technology you used to make the movie.

Joe: We made the movie with one camera and two microphones.

Kevin: And the microphone was hooked up to a pole by a rubber band.

Joe: We didn't have a boom operator. We just had a 3-legged music stand with a rubber band holding a shotgun mic and a 25-foot XLR cable.

Chris: And you ended up buying a new wireless mic, which was one one-sixth of our budget.

Joe: The most in the budget was the wireless microphone. I bought the wireless microphone, I have a Sony PD-150, and there's 30 DVCAM tapes, and there's a 25-foot XLR cable, and there's the shotgun mic that comes with the PD150.

Kevin: And [we weren't even] shooting progressive. Just shooting interlaced.

Joe: Standard 30 frame interlaced. That's the entire package. And then I have a single clamp light with a dimmer switch, just in case, that I usually carry with me. In two hands I can hold everything use to make both my feature films. But that's the way that allows me to walk to somebody's house and shoot and then walk back home and edit that footage 5 minutes later. I don't need to mobilize the troops to shoot a scene. I just need to take my camera case, take my mic pole, and walk somewhere and shoot. I need to be mobile because as soon as it takes two people to transport my stuff somewhere then I need to plan it a day beforehand, and as soon as I need to plan it a day beforehand I'm thinking too much about it. It's not going to happen spontaneously anymore.

So the stuff with Tipper, where Kevin's playing the music at her house, I said, " I know this girl Ann Wells, and I want this girl to play Tipper's roommate, because I know what she looks like and I kind of know how she acts and aesthetically I want that. So I called this girl, Ann Wells -- and it's such a throwaway role, but I knew I wanted that girl to be that throwaway role -- so I called her and she was like, "I don't know if I can do it." and so I said, "Tell me an hour that you have free, and she said "Ok, if we can do it between four o'clock and five o'clock then we can do it." So I said to Kevin, be at Tipper's house at four o'clock. I'm going to be there at 4. We got there at 4:00. We shot from to 4:00 to 4:45.

Kevin: I held out my t-shirt and he white balanced on it. And then we started shooting.

Joe: As soon as we got there. I was rolling as Kevin was unpacking. And then at 4:45 I drove Ann to where she needed to be. And that was the scene. We even shot two scenes.

Kevin: That's another way, going back to maximizing accidents: If you have that kind of restriction on time. Joe could have said, "I want to take my time. Let's not use Ann Wells. We'll use someone else, and take our time and shoot it." Instead, Joe was like, "If we just go and shoot it, then maybe some things will happen.

And if it doesn't work out, you've only lost 45 minutes.

Joe: Absolutely.

Kevin: That's the whole philosophy of the movie. Instead of investing $100,000 to do it you invest $3000.

Joe: If I''m funding something with my own money, like, even when it started to climb up to multiple thousands I was feeling like "Ok, it's time to wrap it up." The financial aspect is becoming too large. The failure rate is so high: No movies get distribution anymore, so many are made, and stuff like that. If I spend $3000 hopefully it can make some money and I can split it with everybody. But if it doesn't, then I've only lost $3000. As soon as the money gets into $10,000 and $15,000" then you're playing the lottery and your odds get less and less with each $5000 increment.

Chris: Especially when you can make [the film] for $3000!

Joe: But that goes back to what you were saying earlier: I need to find people like Kevin and Chris to make it for $3000.

Kevin: The only reason that I did it was because I knew that his last film was in a festival and I was thinking that if this did get into festivals, that I'd get to go for free, and stay at hotels and chill out and drink.

And you're living the dream now.

Kevin: And that's what I'm doing.

Showtime/Smithsonian petition

Scott Macaulay has an in-depth post about a coalition of filmmakers petitioning to stop Showtime's licensing of the Smithsonian's archives. Anthony Kaufman's blog has a copy of the petition for you to download, as well as a link to the NY Times article on the movement. I encourage you to get involved.

In addition to rooting for the petition drive to work, I'm also curious to see the effectiveness of the petitioning for other reasons. As I wrote a few weeks ago, this is exactly the sort of issue that a healthy AIVF would have been able to lobby against in years past. Now, with AIVF ailing, the petition drive is an interesting test case that might predict how well filmmakers might be able to organize, advocate, and change the system in a world without AIVF.

Jake Mahaffy: SRF Interview

"This is the world after the end of the world," a boy tells us at the beginning of Jake Mahaffy's debut feature, War. Then, for the next 80 some odd minutes Mahaffy captures, in black and white, the tedious and transcendental moments of a handful of characters, all male, inhabiting a devastated landscape. They work, play, drive, destroy, search for things lost. In a way, it seems, they wait for the world -- seemingly dead already -- to just end already. Is this is what purgatory, or limbo, looks like? Movies this stark, elemental, sui generis are rarely made by conventional means, and in this way War is no different. Mahaffy took five years to produce the thing, shooting it with a Bolex and a handful of non-professional actors in Warren County, Pennsylvania.

Happily, Mahaffy's spare, spiritual vision found an audience on the festival circuit, playing at Sundance, Rotterdam, Ann Arbor, and several other fine festivals. Response was warm, even glowing. Its premiere at Sundance even led to a positive review in, of all places, that bastion of Hollywood biz reporting, Variety.

As Mahaffy has worked on new projects, other laurels have followed: Jake was recognized as one of the "25 New Faces of Independent Film" by Filmmaker Magazine, and he has been awarded grants from Creative Capital and the Guggenheim Foundation. Just this week, in fact, he was selected as the inaugural Lynn Auerbach Screenwriting Fellow by the Sundance Institute.

Last month, visiting Roanoke, where Jake currently lives and works, I approached him about doing an interview. Here is our conversation:

***

War is your first feature film. Why this film?

It was a mix of intention and circumstance. There wasn't a period of career-planning when I considered the potential value of this film as a "first feature." I was a grad student in art school and had to make a thesis film to get my degree and get a job.

I expected to shoot and finish it in a few months -- it took five years. And it changed over time, as it changed me.

In retrospect, I wouldn't want to have made any other movie.

Part of what makes it unique is the way you made it. Tell me about the tools you used. I shot most of it on a 16mm Bolex camera, which doesn't have a battery, by disengaging the motor and winding the rewind key forward. So, I manually pulled the film through the camera, like silent film-operators used to do. That's not a clever attempt at art. It was a practical necessity. With the Bolex, a spring-wound camera, you only get 20-second shots -- many of the shots run 30-seconds to a minute.

I recorded the sound separately with a hand-held microphone and a field deck. So, I could concentrate on picture and sound separately and give full attention to each element for its own sake.

Then editing in Final Cut, I'd piece things back together- footsteps, doors.... I basically made a silent picture-film and a radio-play, composing each for its own sake, then tied them together at certain points, weaving the sound in and out of sync with the image.

Were there parts of your vision for the film that didn't make it on screen? Hardly any of my "vision" made it to screen, thank God.

There are many scenes, written and actually shot, entire plots and characters that aren't included in the final cut. They could constitute a whole other film, actually.

I went in with all my great ideas and was constantly punished for it. It's hugely frustrating and I've lost years off my life - an experience I wouldn't wish on anybody else- but now I wouldn't trade it for the world.

I was beaten into submission- in a good way. I was beaten into recognizing and accepting reality at the expense of all my clever plans. Maybe rather than imagination without restrictions, creativity is really expressed in the friction between ideas and reality. It comes out truly when you deal with the frustrations of trying to impose your vision on the world.

I never would have made a film like this on purpose. But I had to deal with limitations that couldn't be wished away -- or bought out -- which is what you do with a big budget. If you don't have the money to force it then you have to grow and change with it, expand your conception of reality and truth. That's a glorious experience. The film is just so much better than who I am as a person.

Since there was no budget for the project, how did you approach the financial aspects? The film stock was free with a student grant from Kodak. A wealthy, generous man who liked one of my other student films put up $8,000 to buy the camera, tripod and a sound deck. My wife was funding the film, and supporting me, with her job at the time. Then when I got a teaching job- some equipment came with that gig and I started editing.

It was hand-to-mouth. I didn't know what I was doing at the time and couldn't explain to anyone why they should be giving me money for  --  I didn't deserve anybody's money.

But filmmaking isn't necessarily an expensive activity. It's not a big deal to make a cheap film. What costs money is taking the time away from a paying job. That's expensive -- paying rent to live -- taxes, insurance and all the other crap.

In its willingness to let the landscape tell the story War feels like the spiritual heir of Tarkovsky's films. Then, when I met you, I learned that your wife is Ukranian, you speak Russian, and you studied cinematography in Russia. So there's definitely a Russian (or Soviet) connection. Am I just making coincidental connections, and if not, what are there conscious ways that a Russian sensibility -- or whatever you'd like to call it  --have made it into your work? Oh no - don't call my wife Ukrainian! She's Russian - she just lived in Kharkov. Yeah, I studied Russian and Spanish at Brown University. I wanted to get out of myself and away from everything I knew. Living in Russia did that to me in a dramatic way.

As far as landscapes, at the time, I was thinking a lot of Andrew Wyeth. I was trying to compose images and recreate textures that I saw in Wyeth's paintings. It was important to me because I grew up with his pictures.

As stunning as the images are, I thought that the voice-overs were equally compelling -- things like the sequence where the preacher is thinking about the things he misses, and he's listing foods. Were you working from a script?

Some of the monologues we improvised- sitting and looking at the footage and making up stories about it. I told Kenny Hicks -- the guy who does the preacher's voice -- to talk about the Country Kitchen Buffet and how it would feel to be there- hungry but ashamed to eat. He was hilarious and brilliant. My dad too... I showed him several shots of himself dropping rocks into a puddle. I liked the images but didn't know exactly why he was doing it. Right away he said, "Oh, I'm smashing the peepers." And he went off for 15 minutes talking about smashing peepers, how the peepers come out in the spring and bother him and if he kills the frog eggs before they hatch then its not really killing.

But I wrote some of them too. And guided the improvisations. We were just trying to make sense of the images. War was filmed like a documentary because I couldn't use the screenplay I originally intended. I shot images, year after year, of the characters working and living, inhabiting the fictional world of our film. We created an entire self-sufficient reality, gradually pulling a narrative out of the footage in the editing process. Anyway, rather than executing a prearranged plan with a script, we realized the drama indirectly like when making a verite documentary. But that is not the most efficient way to go about making a fiction film, and I couldn't really recommend it.

You've lived and made films in a number of different places -- among them, Providence, Roanoke, and western Pennsylvania. None of them are traditional centers of filmmaking. What's made that possible? Not depending on other people...

These films are not big productions. With a small project you've got to generate your own energy. That's your self-reliance right there.

But there can be some safety in numbers. There"s some security in knowing that other people actually care about what you"re doing, an official "film" and not just some amateur hobby, which is what you get with a producer and a budget. Some people are embarrassed of making a film by themselves- or terrified.

But there"s also a risk for folks to get caught up in that paradigm at the expense of the alternatives. It could be easy to end up not waiting for "money" as much as you"re waiting for validation. You want to build up a network of support that"s going to carry you through production. You want other people to care, which is one way of insuring the film gets finished, seen and approved of.

It's a different kind of "difficult" -- striking out alone without expecting, or trying to convince, other people to care about your project before its finished.

How did you convince the non-professional actors involved with War and Wellness to participate? These are older folks and, presumably, they have jobs, families, and other commitments. Everybody's got commitments. We just try and make it work around jobs and schedules. I don't know. Tell you the truth, I really have no idea why people do this.

Speaking of "safety in numbers" you belong to a cooperative, Handcranked Films. How did you meet the other makers, and what does belonging to it provide?

Dan Sousa, Jeff Sias and I all studied at RISD (Rhode Island School of Design) together. Jeff and Dan worked with Bryan Papciak at an animation studio in Boston (Olive Jar).

Since then, Jeff and Bryan put up a website with some of our work. They"re the two central figures and run most of the shows and events. They"ve all been doing amazing work- mostly animation- besides supporting themselves with commercial jobs and teaching.

Dan just made a beautiful animated short, Fable. It's playing at Sundance, Annecy, Ottawa -- all the big animation festivals. Jeff and Bryan are working on a feature non-fiction project called American Ruins. They have some amazing footage and are trying to raise the funds to continue. You can see some of their stuff at www.handcrankedfilm.com

War had a great run on the festival circuit, but there are clearly audiences that haven"t had a chance to see it. What are your plans for distributing it on DVD? How can someone that reads about it here get their hands on it?

I don't have any plans to distribute it. That's a full-time job and I'm busy as it is. The unfinished version of War that showed at the festivals is weak compared to the completed film. I made some small changes that make a big difference. It'd be nice for folks to see the finished film but there's not a whole lot I can do about it at this point. Is there?

But what about audiences that didn't have a chance to reach those festivals. Are you not interested in simply selling the DVD on your website? That's a good idea.

What are you working on now?

There's a whole list of different projects I'm working on... Right now I'm shooting Motion Studies, editing Wellness, and writing a script for Free in Deed. That's a film about a man who tries to perform a miracle and fails. I hope to shoot that within the next year or two-- a civil war movie -- not about the first one but the next one. Wellness, which follows a traveling salesman, was shot on DV. Instead of working with non-sync sound and B+W film, you're now working in color and with dialogue. Did it feel like a radical departure? It's fun -- I can't believe it. Just working with people's faces and tones of voice. It's so much easier and more immediate than dealing in visual terms -- with composition and all. The story just takes care of itself. Editing is a riot -- I'm howling through my tears, laughing while cutting it all together.

When and where can we expect to see it? I've only started editing. We'll see how it turns out.

Just this week you were awarded a Sundance Insititute fellowship for your script to Free in Deed. Can you talk a little bit about the story, as well as what the fellowship will do for the project?

I'm still writing it. So, I can't say a whole lot. It's about a man who failed to perform a miracle when he should have. And how he tries to survive in a new reality without miracles.

The fellowship is meant to help you focus on writing the project. That's where Wellness came from. I wanted to learn about dialogue and take a shot at this whole "realism" kick -- people talking, handheld camera and all that. So

Wellness was shot as an exercise, an experimental project, to help write Free in Deed. But its turning out so well -- it may be its own feature.

Sundance has been so generous. It's such a rare and genuine help. The Labs, the people -- I can't speak highly enough of them. You know, it's out of nowhere this stuff they're doing. So many people -- I see artists so caught up in themselves and people in competition with each other -- trying to outdo each other. The Labs' generosity is really refreshing and positive -- they have a bigger picture of the potential of many movies working together rather than just the small picture each filmmaker has of his or her own project.

One last question. Like me, you teach filmmaking. What are the most important things you try to pass along to your students?

I just try and get students excited about learning, really -- so they can teach themselves over time.

I'd say, go for the long-haul. There's some demented American idea about the importance of age- the prodigy myth- it's a marketing trick, really. But it's simple bullshit. Don't sell out your dream to make a splash. Don't believe the hype, you know? It could be easy to lose perspective with the movies where each new film is the greatest piece of genius since Adam's rib. It's like grade-inflation or something.

And I'd say, be true to the specific subject of each particular film rather than trying to make a "great" film in some generic sense. If the film is right and truthful to its subject then it will also be "good" on its own terms.

Is that preachy enough?

DIY film projects page

Some of the most popular posts on this site are the ones where I link to DIY projects, so I've compiled all of those links onto one page for easy access. Look at the (new) black bar that lists pages. See where it says "resources"? Click that, and you'll see the link. Enjoy.

Caveh Zahedi: SRF Interview

To label Caveh Zahedi's I Am A Sex Addict, being released in New York City today by IFC Films, a documentary, a docudrama, an essay-film, or a fictional narrative inspired by true events misses the point. Whatever you call it, I Am A Sex Addict is a great film, easily one of the best American films released so far this year. The film isn't for everyone; that's obvious. Its title alone will warn resolutely unadventurous moviegoers to keep their distance, and for good reason. I Am A Sex Addict critically, and often graphically, charts the filmmaker's addiction to prostitutes through a series of re-enacted scenes from Zahedi's past. Yet in spite of having such lurid subject matter, Zahedi's movie is often funny, deeply moving, stylistically adventurous and, ultimately, a life-affirming film. I Am A Sex Addict is, in the end, a story of redemption through love, but one far more convincing than the dime-a-dozen romantic comedies that Hollywood churns out these days.

I am an acquaintance of Caveh's (he was an organizer of Underground Zero, a 9/11-themed anthology in which I participated), and I've admired his work for some time, so in December I asked if Caveh would be interested in doing an interview for this website. My intention was to help draw attention to his film because, at the time, he was self-distributing it to theaters. Caveh agreed to the interview and, during our exchange of our emails in January, I Am A Sex Addict was picked up by IFC Films -- an exciting development. The IFC pick-up also made some question the sincerity of Caveh's recently-published self-distribution manifesto. (I skipped asking about that in the interview because I assumed, correctly it turns out, that the issue would be dead by the time the movie came out.) ADDENDUM: After this introduction was written, yet another controversy arose -- Mark Cuban's refusal to screen the film in Landmark Theaters. On the same day that this interview was published AJ Schnack posted a recap, and a thoughtful consideration, of the events.

In the interests of drawing attention to the film when it was most useful, I delayed publication of our brief exchange until now. I Am A Sex Addict hits theaters in NYC today, and will continue to roll out to cinemas across America over the Spring. Go see it.

On to the interview:

***

In January, when I Am A Sex Addict won the Gotham Award for "Best Feature Not Playing at a Theater Near You" IndieWire wrote that you chastised the audience at the awards ceremony, in effect saying that the award was a backhanded compliment. Can you share the text of your speech (or at the very least, the essence of it)?

Well, Indiewire got that wrong, I'm afraid. I didn't chastise the audience. What would be the point of that? On the contrary, what I said was that the existence of such an award was evidence that there was something wrong with the current state of film distribution, but that it wasn't the fault of the distributors. The fault, I said, was with us, the filmmakers. I argued that we independent filmmakers need to stop relying on distributors, in much the same way that independent filmmakers no longer rely exclusively on Hollywood studios for financing. I argued that if we have the resourcefulness to obtain financing for our films, we also have the resourcefulness to figure out how to get them seen, and that we need to stop relying on distributors to give us permission to show our films to audiences. We have the power, and the problem is that we've given our power away and don't realize it.

Part of taking that power back, it seems, is Video on Demand, which you've been a proponent of. [Note: Caveh's films are available for download at GreenCine]. What have been the ups and downs of that?

There are no downs that I'm aware of. Only ups.

How did you get involved with it?

I was approached by GreenCine and I said yes. My feeling is that the more people who see the film, the better. Plus I get royalties for each download.

Do you have any advice -- practical or philosophical -- for filmmakers that want to pursue distributing this way? Should filmmakers work with a service like GreenCine, do it themselves...

My understanding is that the technology is rather complicated and expensive, so until that becomes easier and/or cheaper, I would recommend going through a service like GreenCine. They've been wonderful to me. I can't say enough good things about them.

Let's talk about the movie itself. I Am A Sex Addict is a textbook example, in many ways, of the kinds of films that this website was set up to champion: It is a personal, hand-crafted film that tells a story we've not seen in movies. It was made with a small crew. It was made for very little money. And you make assets of these things that others might call liabilities.

Can you talk about the very basic production aspects: What tools did you use that let you work this way? How did you budget the project? What kind of agreements did you make with Greg Watkins (cinematographer), Thomas Logoreci (editor), and the actors, many of whom do some very brave work? How long did you shoot?

We bought a DV camera package, microphones, lights, and an editing system. We had very little money, so we didn't pay anyone, unless we had to. Instead, we made deferred salary agreements with the principal actors and crew people, and shared points in the film. We shot for three and a half years, editing and revising as we went.

In an interview that you conducted with Henry Jaglom, you pointed out the fact that, while other people have always produced his work, Jaglom himself is independently wealthy and that that's how he managed to pay the bills while producing films. (I've found this to be true of a number of filmmakers, too.) I presume that's not the case for you -- In the Bathtub of the World and Underground Zero both show you as a teacher. How did you support yourself during the writing, shooting, and editing of the film? Did you teach?

I tried to teach and make the film in my spare time, but I found it impossible. The demands of the film were just too great. So I ended up persuading the investor to pay me a monthly salary to work on the film, so that I could quit my teaching jobs and devote myself entirely to the making of the film.

My girlfriend and I watched the film together, and this is a question -- and a compliment -- that she insisted that I bring up. In almost all the movies we've seen where characters are (or become) addicts -- whether it's GoodFellas or Boogie Nights or Trainspotting or Requiem for a Dream -- there's some point where we lose sympathy for the characters. And after we lose sympathy, in some cases at least, we lose interest in the narrative altogether. But that doesn't happen here. Like many addicts, you do some absolutely despicable things, yet we still found you charismatic, sympathetic, and pathetic (as in pathos). We were rooting for this addict, even in his worst moments.

Why do you think that is? Is it because the addiction regards something (i.e., sex) that many people have experienced instead of to a more illicit and illegal substance (i.e., heroin, cocaine, etc)? Or is it something else?

Well, first of all, I have to say that not everyone watching the film feels the way you do. A lot of people lose sympathy for me quite early on, and some never develop sympathy for me in the first place. These issues of audience sympathy I find much more subjective than is commonly assumed. But to the extent that you did maintain sympathy for my character, despite my "despicable" behavior, I don't think it has to do with the fact that most people are more familiar with sex addiction-type behaviors than heroin or cocaine addictions, etc. I think it has to do with the ontological pitch at which the film is delivered.

If a recovered heroin addict made a film in which he or she told the true story of their heroin addiction, using both direct camera address and re-enactments of key scenes in which they play themselves, and incorporated actual documentary footage of the real people involved, and weren't trying to make themselves look better than they actually were, I think the viewer would have much more sympathy for such a character than for the same character seen through the lens of the typical Hollywood version of such a story. Because the film itself would be a kind of performative speech act that would command one's respect because of its truth quotient and courage. I think honesty and courage are both very likable qualities in people, and I think a viewer will forgive a lot of "despicable" behavior if honesty and courage are present.

I've read that earlier drafts of the script that were less forgiving. What sort of transformations did the script go through to reach this point?

The original script was 300 pages long, so the first challenge was getting it down to a manageable length, which was a difficult and painful process. And then once it whittle down to a manageable length, the next challenge was finding the money to make it. This took ten years of my life, and even after ten years, I only obtained a fraction of the money I needed to make the film as written. So I had no choice but to re-conceive the film at a much lower budget. As it turns out, this was the best thing that could have happened to me, because it forced me into making aesthetic decisions that ended up making the film both a lot funnier and a lot more radical than it would have been otherwise.

Regarding the "ontological pitch" you talk about, Darren Hughes points out how you really walk a tightrope as far as tone is concerned. I agree. For me, a lot of this had to do with how visually diverse the film is -- from the animation, to the direct-address documentary scenes, to the scenes where you become close to each of the women in your life (which reminded me of another tragically romantic film, Chris Marker's La Jetee). Was it originally conceived this way, or did this kind of mosaic of styles evolve?

The film was not originally conceived that way. The mosaic of styles evolved during the shooting, and arose out of the need to solve very specific aesthetic and narrative problems.

Two of the great moments in the film are the moments where you face up to the compromises made in making the film -- one comes early in the film, when you admit that you're substituting San Francisco for Paris; the other moment is when the actress playing your second girlfriend refuses to do a sex scene you've written and you ask the viewer to imagine it instead. Compromises are part of making any film. But you make the most of these compromises -- to the point that it feels like, on an essential level, an almost uncompromised film. Do you feel that way, that it's uncompromised? Or were there parts of your vision for the film that didn't make it on screen?

For me, the film is totally uncompromised. I made exactly the film that I wanted to make, given the budgetary and time constraints. That's not to say that I think the film is perfect, or that there aren't parts that I think could have been done better, but I did the best I could given my own limitations as a human being.

What's next?

A film called How To Legally Overthrow The U.S. Government.

Contest: Answers and Winner

Here are the answers to the "guess the movie" contest from last week. (Click here if you didn't have a chance to see the banner.) Most of the films were selected because I like them and/or because they're historic, and also because most are handmade and/or regional films. There are some studio films, too. The Griffith and Chaplin movies, for example, are United Artists pictures... but then they started UA so they could have control over their work. Anyway, if you're scratching your head wondering about the inclusion of one (or more than one), post a comment and I'll reply with my justification.

The winner of the contest is Chris Cagle.

Top row:

1. Nanook of the North (Robert Flaherty, 1922) 2. Night of the Living Dead (George Romero, 1968) 3. The Hours and Times (Christopher Munch, 1991) 4. The Gleaners and I (Agnes Varda, 2000) 5. Vermont is for Lovers (John O'Brien, 1992) 6. Titicut Follies (Frederick Wiseman, 1967) 7. Taste of Cherry (Abbas Kiarostami, 1997) 8. La Jetee (Chris Marker, 1962) 9. Solaris (Steven Soderbergh, 2002) 10. Punishment Park (Peter Watkins, 1971) 11. Black Girl (Ousmane Sembene, 1966)

Middle row: 12. Inextinguishable Fire (Harun Farocki, 1969) or What Farocki Taught (Jill Godmilow, 1998) 13. Hail Mary (Jean-Luc Godard, 1985) 14. Pather Panchali (Satyajit Ray, 1955) 15. Eyes Wide Shut (Stanley Kubrick, 1999) 16. Harvest 3000 Years (Haile Gerima, 1975) 17. The Celebration (Thomas Vinterberg, 1998) 18. Rome: Open City (Roberto Rossellini, 1945) 19. War (Jake Mahaffy, 2004) 20. Kandahar (Mohsen Makhmalbaf, 2001) 21. A Trip to the Moon (Georges Melies, 1902) 22. Slow Moves (Jon Jost, 1983)

Bottom row: 23. Meshes of the Afternoon (Maya Deren & Alexander Hammid, 1943) 24. El Mariachi (Robert Rodriguez, 1992) 25. Broken Blossoms (D.W. Griffith, 1919) 26. Killer of Sheep (Charles Burnett, 1977) 27. Salesman (Albert & David Maysles and Charlotte Zwerin, 1969) 28. Funny Ha Ha (Andrew Bujalski, 2002) 29. Faces (John Cassavetes, 1968) 30. Dog Star Man (Stan Brakhage, 1962-64) 31. In a Year of 13 Moons (R.W. Fassbinder, 1978) 32. The Kid (Charles Chaplin, 1921) 33. The Jackal of Nahueltoro (Miguel Littin, 1969)

Four-Eyed Monster interview

Ajit Prem, whose writings on (and as a) DVGuru are always worth a look, has just posted an interview with the team behind the critically-acclaimed DV feature Four Eyed Monsters. I've yet to see the film, but I've been following its progress in indieWire, etc. Ajit's interview makes me even more curious to see it. The interview is posted on Ticklebooth.com. Ajit, if you're reading, what's Ticklebooth?

Caveh Cancelled in Cali

In case you missed the drama (all 24 hours of it) Caveh Zahedi's I Am A Sex Addict was pulled from Landmark Theaters just days before it was set for its West Coast premiere (via IFC First Take). The film was pulled by Mark Cuban (owner of Landmark Theaters). While one might have flashbacks of Ted Turner going moral (e.g., delaying Cronenberg's Crash), the reasons are pettier. Details, including a comments from Cuban himself, found here. Crazy stuff. The drama ended (I hope) on Tuesday afternoon. David Hudson of GreenCine reports the fallout.

My $0.02 analysis: Score one for film blogging. Via his blog, Caveh is able to get the word out quickly about the problem. On a philosophical level, the little guy gets his voice heard just as loudly as the big guy. (Though perhaps Cuban thinks of himself as the little guy when compared with Comcast?) On a practical level, Caveh's able to secure a new theater... fast. He finds out from IFC about the cancellation on yesterday and by 6:30pm (eastern time) the next day, Caveh has a new theater lined up. While, as David Hudson notes, the stakes have been high, this kind of success for a film that is one step-above self-distributed is quite a victory. We're not talking about Star Wars VI. The film in question is entitled I Am A Sex Addict.

End analysis.

Meanwhile, in less dramatic news, I Am A Sex Addict will premiere in New York on April 12 at the IFC theater. I'm guessing that that screening will go off without a hitch. An interview with Caveh will run here on April 12 to coincide with the NY opening.

ADDENDUM:

Predictably, Scott Kirsner and Anthony Kaufman have smart things to say about the situation.

Ken Burns' Anger, or: Connecting the Dots between AIVF, Showtime, and Smithsonian

Over the last couple of weeks the Association of Independent Video and Filmmakers (AIVF) has only raised $11,000 of the $75,000 they need to weather their current financial crisis. Things could turn around but, as it stands, it's looking dark. There are arguments, of course, that AIVF has outlived its relevance:

- AIVF has long provided useful resources and information to independent filmmakers. Now, with the internet, such information is easily (and freely) available to anyone.

- AIVF created (or at least aimed to create) networks of filmmakers. Now, with the explosion of film festivals around the country and internet discussion forums (plus newer developments like IndieWIRE's IndieLoop) filmmakers can connect without needing organizational support.

Shouldn't we be happy that we don't need an organization to supply these things anymore? I think so.

Still, one vital way that the Association of Independent Film & Videomakers has distinguished itself amidst a crowded landscape of film, video, and media arts non-profit organizations has been through its public advocacy work. (For example, AIVF was instrumental in the creation of ITVS.) I'm concerned that this is where AIVF's death -- if it indeed dies -- will be felt most strongly.

For example, I am reminded of the importance of AIVF's advocacy work when I recently read about the Smithsonian's exclusive licensing of its archives to Showtime. Anthony Kaufman covers the story on his blog, and offers a way to protest. Ken Burns (quoted in the NY Times) sums the situation up:

I find this deal terrifying...It feels like the Smithsonian has essentially optioned America's attic to one company, and to have access to that attic, we would have to be signed off with, and perhaps co-opted by, that entity.

Of course, in healthier days AIVF -- because of its non-profit status, because it is a national member organization, because it represents all types of filmmakers -- would be uniquely qualified to lobby against this selling off of America's cultural resources to the highest bidder. AIVF has done this work in the past, and it would probably be very effective at reversing, or at least drawing substantial critical inquiries, into the deal. Yet AIVF's current financial crisis is preventing them from doing so.

How will the cultural landscape change if/when AIVF ceases to exist? Is it possible that some new advocacy group can be formed if AIVF shuts its doors? The only certainty is that this won't be the last time that someone attempts to make public cultural resources exclusive to a for-profit corporation.

For now, if the Smithsonian-Showtime deal makes you angry (or you simply want to know more), read this fine post at Daily Kos. If you want to help save AIVF, click here.

ADDENDUM: Eugene Hernandez writes about an AIVF discussion that went down last night in New York. I was at that meeting. It was a good conversation, and it led me to further refine my opinons on the AIVF situation...hence my posting today. Though some other people at that meeting possibly share my views, my writing (as usual) only speaks for me.