Chris Cagle: Peter Watkins and "Category D"

Those of you that remember the Self-Reliant Film contest back in April might be happy to learn that the winner, Chris Cagle, has put his prize (a DVD of Punishment Park) to good use. Over at Left Center Left, Chris has a good introduction to the work of Peter Watkins. If you're not familiar with Watkins's work, check it out. Now is a good time to mention, too, that Chris has recently started Category D, a promising new blog that concerns the academic scholarship of film and media studies. (The name is a reference to an important early '70s essay from Cahiers du Cinema.) Cagle writes:

It's been my belief for some time that there needs to be a blog, and ultimately many blogs, devoted to academic film and media studies. There is no shortage of websites devoted to film, television, popular culture, or new media. And a few of them are written by scholars teachers, mediamakers or other educated critics: see the blogroll for some of these. But to my eyes, few of them are fully devoted to discussing and promoting the discipline as a discipline. This is where Category D steps in.

The first and second posts are a good place to start, but all I've read have Chris's typical mix of precision, skepticism, and insight.

TCM's Edge of Outside Series

Through the month of July, Turner Classic Movies is screening a festival's worth of films by maverick American filmmakers. (Click here for the schedule.) The lineup of films is a great mix of acknowledged classics (A Woman Under the Influence, Raging Bull, Bonnie and Clyde) and some more rarely screened films. Since it's not available on DVD, John Casssavetes' A Child is Waiting, while not a major work of his, is probably the one I'm most eager to see again.

To coincide with the series, TCM has produced an original documentary, Edge of Outside. Unfortunately, the film feels like a primer for viewers largely unfamiliar with independent film. Regrettably, for me, it was a bit of a disappointment.

For one thing, the movie treads a lot of the same ground as the far-superior A Personal Journey Through American Movies with Martin Scorsese. In some cases (e.g., profiles of Nicholas Ray and Samuel Fuller), identical behind-the-scenes stories and film clips are shown. Anyone that's familiar with the Scorsese film will probably feel like they've seen some of this before.

Edge of Outside is almost entirely structured around interviews with filmmakers, and the roster of interviewees is largely predictable. Scorsese is here, as is Peter Bogdanovich -- both speak sagely as Elder Statesmen of American film. People of color are spoken for (and represented by) Spike Lee. Women are largely seen (in clips), not heard (in interviews).

Edge of Outside suffers from a lack of focus, too. The film tries to cover the history of American independent film from Griffith to today, but doing so in only an hour results in a predictably superficial tour. I was left craving fresh revelations about the familiar faces and films it covers or, alternately, I would have liked to have heard the stories of filmmakers operating closer to the "edge of outside."

To be fair, the version I saw was not the final cut, so judge for yourself: Edge of Outside premieres tonight at 8pm, and repeats on TCM throughout the month.

July 4

What I must do is all that concerns me, not what the people think. This rule, equally arduous in actual and in intellectual life, may serve for the whole distinction between greatness and meanness. It is the harder, because you will always find those who think they know what is your duty better than you know it. It is easy in the world to live after the world's opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude.

-- Emerson, "Self-Reliance"

What To Do When Your Hard Drive Goes Soft.

I personally know of at least five filmmakers whose hard drives have gone buggy or outright died in the last month. The original internal drive on my old (2003) G5 was one of them. Kaput. So here are some quick tips in the public interest. Because I've been Apple-centric since, oh, 1984, this is for Mac users only. Sorry PC people. These tips aren't meant to be exhaustive -- they can't be, since hard drives crash for a number of reasons -- but if these tips... Can. Save. Just. One. Computer.... Well, you get the picture... Before you begin: First, having access to another Macintosh computer during the process of diagnosis and repair is essential. It doesn't have to be a supercomputer: My 2001 G3 iBook has saved my butt on a few occasions. The main thing is, the computer you use will need to have a firewire port so you can analyze your ailing drive in target disk mode. (If you don't know about target disk mode, read more here.) Having an internet connection will be useful too because you might need to download a program, look up some information, etc.

If you're having a problem with an external firewire drive, skip on over to Josh Oakhurst's site where he gives some fine tips.

If the problem drive is your computer's main (boot) drive, well, I feel your pain. Let's get started:

First, try to get the thing to mount on your second (working) computer's desktop. As mentioned previously, you do this using target disk mode. I'm going to assume this will work.

Let's stay optimistic and keep things simple at first. Hopefully, it's just a small problem.

1) Run Disk Utility Disk Utility is Apple factory software and it should be on every Mac computer. (You'll find it in Applications --> Utilities.) First, you'll want to select the problem drive in the left hand column and then select "Verify Disk." Assuming it shows some problems, click "Repair Disk." And cross your fingers. If this works for you, you got off lucky. While you're there you'll want to "Verify Permissions" and, if there are problems with permissions, "Repair Permissions."

Let's assume this didn't work. What next?

2) AppleJack Here's what Sourceforge.net has to say about Applejack:

AppleJack is a user friendly troubleshooting assistant for Mac OS X. With AppleJack you can troubleshoot a computer even if you can't load the GUI, or don`t have a startup CD handy. AppleJack runs in Single User Mode and is menu-based for ease of use.

If you don't already have it installed on your computer, you'll need to do that first. Follow the AppleJack ReadMe instructions and take it from there.

You tried AppleJack and it's still not working? Uh oh.

3) Disk Warrior Next I would recommend Disk Warrior by Alsoft. DiskWarrior is commercial software, so it actually, you know, costs money. It's worth it. It has saved at least one hard drive of mine. One of the nicer aspects about DiskWarrior is that you can purchase it by download so that you can start using it immediately (instead of, say, having to order it from an online vendor or buying it in a store). That is, if you have a working computer.

There are other applications out there -- Norton makes one, TechTool is another. Those may work, too, though their ratings on VersionTracker are not as high.

4) Data Rescue II If DiskWarrior doesn't solve your problems, there's probably little hope left for your drive... Still, there's hope for your information, and that's what's important.

I speak from experience: In May, I tried all of the above steps and nothing worked. I mean nothing. I pretty much gave my drive up for dead because DiskWarrior had worked like a champ for me before and even it wasn't helping things. Then I read a little about DataRescue II and decided to give it a shot.

Data Rescue II works. Basically, the program goes over your hard drive very, very slowly itemizing everything that it can. When it's done it then allows you to save (literally and figuratively) that information to another hard drive. The process can take days. You read that right. For my 160GB hard drive it took about 60 continuous hours for this process to work. But it did it -- it saved my information.

If you've gotten this far and nothing is working, well, I think it's time to evaluate just how valuable that information is. You've probably spent hours, and maybe dropped a couple hundred bucks, trying to fix the thing. Take a browse through the recent HDforIndies discussion (some people talk about freezing hard drives). If none of the suggestions there work, and you need the information that badly (and don't have a decent backup) move on to the next step.

5) Ship it off. You're going to need to send it to a company that specializes in disk repair. The good news is, they exist; the bad news is, you're going to pay for it. Luckily, this is something I've never had to do. One such company is TekServe. Another, DriveSavers, has repaired disks for everyone from Industrial Light & Magic and Pixar to Beck and Keith Richards (!?!).

Remember: I'm not a licensed (or, for that matter, unlicensed) Apple technician, hard drive repairman, or anything else. You follow these tips at your own risk, yadda yadda. This is simply stuff that's helped me.

Finally, two other things to consider:

1) Check your RAM. Once a computer I was using kept crashing. I thought it was the hard drive, but everything checked out okay. Reinstalled OS X. Still no fix. Then I tested the RAM: Bingo! A good tool for checking it: Rember.

2) If you're having a hard drive crisis right now, I know you don't want to hear this... but the reason it's probably a crisis is that you've not been doing regular back-ups. Using a computer without backing up your data is like driving without insurance. So: Make sure you have a hard drive that is dedicated to regularly backing up your data. And then do it. It's easier, of course, to backup data using an application like ChronoSync SuperDuper which is my NEW favorite, but there are other programs out there. The point is: If you're not backing your data up, you're asking for trouble.

Okay. That's all I got. Good luck.

ADDENDUM: Make sure you read the fine comments below, especially #3, which discusses Apple Hardware Test. That's an important step, and one I really should have included.

Twyla Tharp: Getting Things Done (with Boxes)

As I said in my last post, I'm generally suspicious of motivational speakers, self-help books, and so on. In fact, going near that section of the bookstore alone just gives me the willies. Still, a year down the road, I'm glad I took a look at David Allen's productivity phenomenon Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity even if I have reservations about the some of its jargon and, at times, (needless?) complexities.

Enter Twyla Tharp's The Creative Habit (co-written with Mark Reiter).

I ran across Tharp's book in the arts, not productivity, section of the bookstore. A good sign. (Certainly if you find yourself reading productivity book after productivity book you're missing the point.) Browsed a few pages. Plunked down the cash for it and, upon taking it home, found that The Creative Habit is, yep, one of those books. Happily, it's a little different, too.

For one thing, the book caters to artists, not paper-pushers. Sure, in some ways, work is work. But getting things done can be a lot harder when the "things" are ideas you've dreamt up entirely on your own. (I imagine this applies to programmers, too. Merlin, are you reading?)

Even more importantly, the writing is credible. Twyla Tharp is a bona fide giant in choreography. She's had a long, successful career in a competitive field. For that reason alone, her ideas on being creative and productive in the arts carry some weight with me.

As Tharp states in the first few pages, her book's basic premise is that "[i]n order to be creative you have to know how to prepare to be creative." The rest of the book talks about how to make a ritual of your creativity, how to work through creative blocks, and how to get out of (and altogether avoid) ruts. I'm not going to summarize the book -- it's a good read, why should I? -- but the whole thing is a substantial investigation into the process of creativity. Sure, it has some of that self-help anyone-can-do-it syrup, but I found that it was a digestible amount.

One thing that's particularly interesting, and a little amusing, is that Tharp's system for organizing her work is not so very different from that found in Getting Things Done.

David Allen's notion of "Collect. Process. Organize. Review. Do." is echoed in Tharp's quoting of Stephen Kosslyn's notion of how you can act on ideas: "Generate. Retain. Inspect. Transform."

If that sounds familiar, check this out:

Everyone has his or her own organizational system. Mine is a box, the kind you can buy at Office Depot for transferring files.

I start every dance with a box. I write the project name on the box, and as the piece progresses I fill it up with every item that went into the making of the dance. This means notebooks, news clippins, CDs, videotapes of me working alone in my studio, videos of the dancers rehearsing, books and photographs and pieces of art that may have inspired me.

The box documents active research on every project....

There are separate boxes for everything I've ever done. If you want a glimpse into how I think and work, you could do worse than to start with my boxes.

The box makes me feel organized, that I have my act together even when I don't know where I'm going yet.

It also represents a commitment. The simple act of writing a project name on the box means I've started work.

The box makes me feel connected to a project. It is my soil. I feel this even when I've back-burnered a project: I may have put the box away on a shelf, but I know it's there. The project name on the box in bold black lettering is a constant reminder that I had an idea once and may come back to it very soon.

Most important, though, the box means I never have to worry about forgetting. One of the biggest fears for a creative person is that some brilliant idea will get lost because you didn't write it down and put it in a safe place. I don't worry about that because I know where to find it. It's all in the box....

They're easy to buy, and they're cheap....They're one hundred percent functional; they do exactly what I want them to do: hold stuff. I can write on them to identify their contents... I can move them around... When one box fills up, I can easily unfold and construct another. And when I'm done with the box, I can ship it away out of sight, out of mind, so I can move on to the next project, the next box.

Easily acquited. Inexpensive. Perfectly functional. Portable. Identifiable. Disposable. Eternal enough.

Those are my criteria for the perfect storage system. And I've found the answer in a simple file box.

No "tickler files." No "weekly review." It's even more simple. Boxes. Just boxes.

On top of all of this, The Creative Habit is worth reading because Twyla Tharp is a pretty good storyteller. She invites us into the process behind the creation of some of her biggest successes and failures, and she does so in hopes of helping us with our own creativity. As with Getting Things Done, I'm sure your mileage will vary, but you might give it a look.

Some notes on Getting Things Done

This is part 1 of a two-part series discussing productivty books -- for artists and not.

Last year, after reading about it via Merlin Mann's 43 Folders website and his Life Hacking column in Make Magazine, I decided to explore David Allen's Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity.

Even with my aversion to self-help literature and motivational speakers, Getting Things Done -- or GTD, as it's called by its disciples -- was alluring. The attraction for me could be found in the book's subtitle. Productivity? Sounds great -- I'd like to be more productive. Stress free productivity? Wow - sign me up.

It's been about a year since I read the book, so I thought I'd do some reflecting on what worked, what didn't, and why. Maybe it will be useful for you. If not, move along.

GTD in theory.

For me, the premise of GTD basically boils down to keeping your mind clear of distractions so that you can concentrate on accomplishing the meaningful tasks. On a philosophical level, that's great for creative types since distractions are probably our number one enemy. At least, I know they are for me. I also know that the moments of truly inspired creativity, especially writing and editing, are devoid of multitasking -- they're moments of deep, loss-of-all-sense-of-time concentration.

Beyond this, most of GTD deals with how to sort physical stuff. Paul, do you mean, like, it's all about sorting things? Yeah. Some of the GTD ideas are pretty straightforward and common sense. And sometimes the ideas sound like they were inspired by a George Carlin routine. But that doesn't make them any less useful.

Anyway, everything boils down to stuff. You've got stuff on your desk. Stuff you've not done. Stuff in your inbox (email, literal, or proverbial). And so on. To "get things done" you act on the stuff -- you can't just push it around, but really act on it. David Allen says anything that comes across your desk will need to be: collected, processed, organized, reviewed, and acted upon.

On a practical level, here's how it works. Something comes across your desk. What now?

First, you process it:

If you can't act on it, you trash it, file it away for later, or you save it for reference. Examples: junk mail, an newspaper article you might want to adapt into a short film someday, or a new phone book, respectively.

If you can act on it then:

1) You can act on it immediately if you can accomplish the task in 2 minutes or less. (Great for email.) 2) You can delegate someone to do something about it. 3) You defer it to be acted upon later, preferably by putting it on your calendar or by assigning a "next action" to it.

#1 is the most immediately satisfying, in the sense that you're dealing with stuff very quickly. #2 is useful if you have someone to whom you can reliably delegate. #3 is for the important (or at least time consuming) stuff.

I won't go into details about the actions (this is most of the book), but Allen stresses that you must define what the next actionable step is. Failure to do this means you've just pushed it aside and you're going to end up spinning wheels. But (theoretically, at least) if you follow the system, you're going to figure out a meaningful action that you can take and then you'll do it.

GTD: My experiences.

After taking a few days to get set up (basically, sorting through all my junk, classifying it, and so on) I found that some of the concepts it describes were, in fact, useful for me. For example, GTD's system of relying on file folders for organization did help me gain a sense of control over my stuff. And, when I was vigilant about following its system, it also helped me keep my email inbox down to zero.

I also found that its orientation towards specific, actionable tasks was immensely helpful. It's not enough to say "I swear I'm going to finish editing my documentary." And it's even worse to say, "I'm going to figure that problem scene out." Figuring something out isn't an action. You have to say, "I'm going to try to cut it from character X's perspective and see if that solves the problem I'm having with the pacing." That's action, which, um, gets things done. Again, as I said, some of this is straightforward, common sense stuff, but even applying the slightest bit of theory to your productivity can help you become aware of what is and isn't working for you.

That's the good stuff.

How's it hold up after a year? I can only speak for myself: Beyond some of the most basic concepts (like the ones outlined above) I've largely abandoned the GTD system. In fact, some of the more advanced concepts in the book -- like the fabled 43 folders -- I tried for only a few days before dropping. At times I felt like I was pushing paper and not getting much done. At other times I stressed more about the system than the actual tasks I was using the system to accomplish. Wasn't this supposed to be stress-free productivity?

I could also find fault with some of the productivity-speak mantras (e.g., "mind like water") that are repeated throughout the book. I don't care if it is a Buddhist concept -- saying things like "mind like water" over and over in service of file folders seems downright corny if not outright hilarious.

I'm sure there are GTD acolytes out there that will tell me that I'm lazy and if I were to keep up with the system, that I would find it's actually useful. It's possible that's true (and it's definitely true that I can be lazy on occasion), but there's a fundamental part of me that rebels against systems like this. It could be my contrarian side, or it could be sheer pragmatism: Am I living to geek, or am I geeking to live? If forced to choose, I'd much prefer the latter.

Finally, I wonder if some of my reluctance to stick with the GTD plan had to do with the fact that with the work I do (or am trying to do) doesn't always parallel the work of what I take to be GTD's intended audience (i.e., suits).

Creative work, for many of us, is often done without any oversight (especially during the most formative stages of an idea), the work rarely follows a routine 9-to-5 schedule and, even for those with a studio, one's workspace doesn't have such clearly defined boundaries as, say, the Office.

Either way, in sum, Getting Things Done was a worthwhile read and it's been somewhat useful for me. Is it my new religion? Hardly. Should you try it out? Dunno. All I can be sure of is that your mileage may very.

My next post will discuss a second "productivity" book, which is written by and for artists.

ADDENDUM: Forgot to link to Merlin's outstanding Getting Started With Getting Things Done. If your interest has been piqued, reading this is a good (to use the parlance) next action.

"Americans' tastes are really broad."

The IFC Blog (which, by the way, you should read even if you don't watch -- or even get -- IFC) writes today about an article in the NYT about Netflix. Sounds like a worthwhile read. Here's the quote that whetted my appetite:

Its return from oblivion is a nice illustration of a brainteaser I have been giving my friends since I visited Netflix in Silicon Valley last month. Out of the 60,000 titles in Netflix's inventory, I ask, how many do you think are rented at least once on a typical day?

The most common answers have been around 1,000, which sounds reasonable enough. Americans tend to flock to the same small group of movies, just as they flock to the same candy bars and cars, right?

Well, the actual answer is 35,000 to 40,000. That's right: every day, almost two of every three movies ever put onto DVD are rented by a Netflix customer. "Americans' tastes are really broad," says Reed Hastings, Netflix's chief executive. So, while the studios spend their energy promoting bland blockbusters aimed at everyone, Netflix has been catering to what people really want — and helping to keep Hollywood profitable in the process.

I've believed this last bit for a long time, but I've only had anecdotal evidence to prove it (conversations with all sorts of non-film people, experiences on the festival circuit, etc.). It's great to hear the CEO of a company confirm my intuition with some data.

See also: The Long Tail.

A Family Finds Entertainment in Philadelphia

Ryan Trecartin's A Family Finds Entertainment will have its Philadelphia premiere this Saturday. Over 41 minutes, AFFE (sort-of) tells a young man's coming-out story with an onslaught of campy video effects, handmade costumes, and decadent Generation-Y kids spouting dialogue that seems transcribed from internet chatrooms. Psychedelia isn't usually my cup of tea, but I was consistently fascinated -- and, yes, entertained -- by this video's mix of melodrama and Mardi Gras. The Fat Tuesday analogy isn't entirely inappropriate: Trecartin and his band of collaborators produced the video in New Orleans before Hurricane Katrina. And now, after some moving around, Trecartin has recently relocated to Philadelphia; he and some of his (now-displaced) collaborators will attend the screening.

If you're in the Philly area, check it out: Saturday, June 10 @ 8:30. Vox Populi Gallery. $6.

Philadelphia's coolest curators, Small Change Productions, are behind the show. More info can be found on the Small Change website.

ADDENDUM: I neglected to add in my original post that Joe Swanberg has an interesting posting/interview with Trecartin on his website.

Celtx update 0.9.7

In February I wrote about Celtx, an open-source screenwriting and pre-production application for Windows, Macintosh, and Linux. A new version (0.9.7) has just been released, and it appears to be a winner. In my February notes, I was critical of the application's lack of "more"/"continued" support; that's been added. I also had problems importing scripts originally written in Final Draft. So far, this seems to work like a charm. These improvements, though, appear to be just the beginning. You can read about the revisions here. Or you can watch a video about the changes here. Taken together, all of the changes, additions, and fixes make this a major upgrade.

If I do have a quibble it's that I think that Celtx's developers are premature in calling Celtx "a new platform for the Pre-Production of Media." At the moment the application has neither a stripboarding, nor a budgeting, feature.

Until it has these things applications like EP Scheduling and Budgeting, Company Move, and even Gorilla will maintain their dominance over Celtx as pre-production applications.

Maybe that's okay. Personally, instead of seeing Celtx's developers add on feature after feature to the application, I would prefer to see a kind of "sequel" to Celtx for pre-production, which would integrate seamlessly with Celtx's development ideas and script tools.

From a software development standpoint this could help keep the application from becoming bloated (as often happens) and it could allow the applications develop at their own pace. (As a point of comparison, Firefox and Thunderbird work much better as stand-alone apps than the so-called "Mozilla suite" does. At least that’s been my experience on a Macintosh.)

Anyway, this is all speculative and/or wishful thinking. Celtx is not even at its 1.0 release, and the bottom line is that it excels at providing a one-stop dumping ground for all of the ideas, notes, and documents associated with a film, up to and including the screenplay. I look forward to seeing where its developers take it next.

2 x 2: Puffy Chair and Cavite

I've yet to see The Puffy Chair and Cavite, but I've heard good things about both. I plan to see them when I can. Coincidentally, both are made by filmmaking teams of two guys. And today, also by coincidence, I ran across an interview with each team. Since I've not seen the movies I read these interviews with only one eye open (metaphorically speaking) to avoid spoilers. From what I could tell, they're worth a read, though the Cavite interview seems a little like a survey and response. If nothing else, this is my reminder to check these out later after I've seen the films.

In The Puffy Chair with the Duplass Brothers [GreenCine]

Ian Gamazon and Neill dela Llana, Co-directors of Cavite [indieWire]

A Change of Scenery

Though anything I write on this website is obviously coming from my personal point of view, I typically don't write much about my life unless its relevant to the aim of this site. I basically do this for two reasons: 1) why would you care?, and 2) I'm kind of a private person. Having said that, this is one of those occasions where I'd like to share some good news:

Starting this fall I'll begin a position as an assistant professor of Digital Film/Video production at Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University -- Virginia Tech, to you and me. I've not yet begun the job, or even made the move to Virginia yet, but my colleagues are already showing me a warm, Southern welcome.

Though I've enjoyed my stint at Temple University immensely, as readers of this site know I'm committed to regional filmmaking. I'm excited to be heading someplace where my students understand this not as a concept, but as a reality. I guess they remind me a little of myself when I was an undergraduate at the University of Tennessee in the early 90s.

It's going to be a good move for me, too. Though I know East Tennessee better than Southwest Virginia, I can't wait to return to the part of the South where most of my work is set. This is the landscape I know and this is where I find the stories that inspire me.

In sum, the position at VT was, to quote a not-so-"self-reliant film", an offer I couldn't refuse.

I'll try to do at least a few more posts before I get swamped with packing and moving, but if when my posts drop, consider this your pre-emptive apology.

Some folks call it the herd instinct....

... but in the movie business we call it "word of mouth."

Over at All These Wonderful Things, AJ Schnack has been covering the release of An Inconvenient Truth, the new documentary about Al Gore's post-2000 rebirth as the global warming doomsday messenger.

As you'll see from AJ's first, very substantive post on the subject, I'm skeptical of the doc's entertainment value. But now... I'm beginning to want to see it.

In reference to the film's L.A. opening yesterday, AJ quotes a guy that works at the Laemmle Monica as saying "These are Crouching Tiger numbers. It was insane, man!" Is this why I want to see it? Because it's possibly going to be a hit?

I don't think so.

Actually, I'm growing more interested because AJ's got me hooked on his articles that follow the movie's release. Mind you, I'm still skeptical. After all, I'm not interested in seeing An Inconvenient Truth because I like Al Gore (though I do), and I'm not interested in seeing the film because I am sensitive to the issue of global warming (though I am). I've become interested in the movie because a fellow filmmaker, whose writing I admire, thinks this film's worthy of repeated attention.

In order, here are AJ's posts. See for yourself: post one (featuring naysaying by yours truly), post two, and post three.

Also, the IFC blog has a nice sum-up of the movie's first round of reviews. To sum up the sum-up: Generally positive, but more Social Studies than Great Cinema. Still, when I read that one influential non-cineaste has a two-word reply to whether or not he'll see it ("Doubt it.")....well, I know it's immature to say so, but for me that's even more reason to go.

UPDATE: Boffo BO for Truth! (That's my attempt at a Variety-style headline.)

DVD Round-Up: 5.24.06

Judging from the uptick in visitors and from the comments it received, my post about my watching 14 hours of student films was apparently of interest to a lot of people. So, in the interests of giving the people what they want, here's a special short film edition of DVD round-up. Cinema 16. Produced in Great Britain, Cinema 16 (not to be confused with first film society in the USA) is a new series of short film compilations on DVD. There are three editions (so far), and alongside more recent festival favorites, each DVD features early short films by contemporary masters. Please note: These are Region 2 PAL discs; you'll need a region-free player to watch them in America.

Cinema 16: European Short Films, for example, features early shorts -- in some cases the very first films -- by Lars von Trier, Jean-Luc Godard, Tom Tykwer, Nanni Moretti, Lukas Moodysson, and Jan Svankmajer. Godard's entry, "All The Boys Are Called Patrick" (written by Eric Rohmer) is found commonly found elsewhere, but I can't think of any other place to find many of these films.

Cinema 16: American Short Films. The American edition similarly collects some noteworthy works. The two that have me most curious are D.A. Pennebaker's "Daybreak Express" and Gus Van Sant's "The Discipline of D.E." If this doesn't interest you there are also student films by Tim Burton, Todd Solondz, Alexander Payne, and George Lucas, among others.

Cinema 16: British Short Films. With the British edition you get a strong lineup headlined by Ridley Scott (directing his brother Tony Scott), Peter Greenaway, Christopher Nolan, Lynne Ramsay, and Mike Leigh. The only downside here is that the shorts by Greenaway ("Dear Phone"), Ramsay ("Gasman") and Leigh "The Short and Curlies") have all been released elsewhere -- the latter two on Criterion editions of Ratcatcher and Naked, while the Greenaway is on the compliations mentioned below.

Their First Films. Another treasure trove of early films is Their First Films, a Korean DVD (Region 3 -- like the ones above, you'll need a region-free player). The films found here are not always, as the title suggests, the first films by the included directors, but if you can look past the inaccuracy of its title, this is worthwhile viewing. Indeed, if you're a fan of the French New Wave, this disc is probably a must-have. Included are early works by: Maurice Pialat, Jean-Luc Godard (here, it's "Charlotte et son Jules" from 1958), Jacques Rivette, Francois Truffaut & Jean-Luc Godard ("Histoire d'eau"), Patrice Leconte, Jacques Doniol-Valcroze, and Jean-Pieree Melville's "24 Hours in the Life of a Clown" from 1946. The best of the bunch is Alain Resnais's "Le Chant du Styrene", a comissioned film about polystyrene shot in color cinemascope. Jonathan Rosenbaum has rightfully called it "easily the most beautiful 'industrial' ever made." To the best of my knowledge it's not available on any other compilation. Their First Films can be found at various Asian DVD retailers around the net like this one and this one.

Greenaway - Early Films Box Set. I saw Peter Greenaway's The Cook, The Thief, His Wife, and Her Lover in the theater, and I remember being mesmerized by the whole thing. It was as strange as anything my seventeen year-old eyes had ever seen up until that point in a movie theater. Later Greenaway films, like Prospero's Books, interested me less -- I always ended up respecting them more than I actually appreciated them. Still, I'm very curious about these short films, which are available for the first time on DVD here in the US. It's a two-disc set. Disc one collects the shorts "A Walk Through H: The Reincarnation of an Ornithologist", "H is for House", "Windows", "Dear Phone", "Water Wrackets", and "Intervals." The centerpiece of disc two is The Falls. If you're not interested in the box set, the two dvds are available separately, though purchasing them together brings a bit of a discount. Region 1.

The Journal of Short Film. Recently named by Library Journal as one of the Best Magazines of 2005, The Journal of Short Film aims to collect some of the better shorts circulating at festivals (and elsewhere) four times a year. The Journal's website promotes the fact that it is "peer-reviewed by filmmakers and scholars of film theory", as well as "non-corporate", "ad-free" and has an "open and free submission process." Good things, indeed. Volume 3, which was just released (and which I have viewed), is a grab bag of narratives, documentaries, animations and things in-between. Among the highlights are Cindy Stillwell's "High Plains Winter", an experimental documentary, which captures the isolation and adventure that winter in Montana can inspire, and Josh Hyde's neo-realist inflected "Chicle." Volume 3 also featured a few too many of those clever, over-produced "calling card" films for my tastes, but variety is the spice of life, I suppose. Some other viewers, no doubt, will warm to the very films I wasn't fond of and vice-versa. One way or another, The JSF is worth investigating, and libraries, especially those of universities with film programs, would be smart to add it to their collections. (Filmmakers interested in submitting to The Journal of Short Film should read the information on submissions The JSF's website.)

AIVF is (probably) dead. Long live independent film.

In case you haven't heard the news, AIVF is shutting its doors. In indieWire's article on the subject AIVF's interim executive director Lina Srivastava says, "(The organization has) kind of gone into moth balls to a certain extent." Her choice of words suggests that the organization's status is still indeterminate, but what's indisputable is that the only two people left working for AIVF are Srivastava (who had always signed on to only an "interim" position with the organization) and Shana Liebman, editor of The Independent Film and Video Monthly. Hibernation? Coma? Death? I guess we'll have to wait to find out. In AIVF's semi-annual member surveys I was always a vocal critic of its service and outreach to filmmakers based anywhere but New York, and Jim McKay made the case better than I ever could about how the organization, though it desperately needed to transform itself, had not done so.

But, after speaking with some staffers in February as news of their crisis leaked out, I argued for its survival because I believed that this could be the wake-up call the organization needed.

Pretty soon into its funding drive, though, I saw that AIVF wasn't going to meet its (modest) goals, and I came to the conclusion that it's probably better for the long term that the organization close shop, at least for a while, and possibly forever.

Now that that's happened, we're left with more questions:

Will The Independent Film and Video Monthly live on in some other way, and if so, what shape will it take?

Will AIVF ever have its "moth balls" dusted off? If so, by whom and under what circumstances?

And, perhaps most pressingly, what organizations will take this as a wake-up call and transform themselves? And which ones will be the next to collapse?

One small bit of hope:

As I wrote in a post midway through the AIVF funding crisis, the controversial Showtime-Smithsonian deal would be an interesting test case of what things might be like in a world without AIVF. One of AIVF's strengths was as an advocate of the collective rights of independent filmmakers. Under normal circumstances AIVF would have led the charge against the licensing of America's "attic" to a private corporation.

Happily, it appears as if the filmmakers that banded together (without the help of AIVF or, to the best of my knowledge, any other organization -- see Brian's comment below) have been at least partially successful in getting Congress to take notice.

14 hours of student films

As regular readers might have noted, my posts over the last few weeks have really dwindled. There are good reasons for this, as I've been phenomenally busy. One of the many reasons is that I was overseeing the production of Temple's annual student film festival. I had never organized something of this scale (31 short films, jurors from London and L.A., closing awards ceremony to feed 200 people, etc). Luckily, I had a group of six student volunteers, all of whom did a fantastic job.

I thought about writing a long post about how to organize something like this, but I assume there are better resources on the internet by people more experienced in film festival management. Instead, I'll just offer one piece of advice to student (or beginning) filmmakers, which I was reminded of while we put the fest together:

If you're interested in being a filmmaker, volunteer to be a pre-screener for a film festival.

By my estimation, the student volunteers and I watched over 100 short films in one 14 hour stretch to select the films that would screen in the festival. They chose the work; I mainly voted in tie-breaker situations.

What was really amazing for me was not watching the work itself. It was watching the students watch the work.

The students making the selections want to be filmmakers themselves, and I think they probably learned as much about filmmaking from those 14 hours as they did from any single course they've taken. Why? Because they saw more bad films than good ones and, seeing them in such close succession, they saw that bad films often have the same, simple problems:

- Too long. Comedies and documentaries are especially guilty of this. The docs are too long because the filmmakers haven't yet found their story or they're in love with their footage. The comedies... well, you know that saying, "brevity is the soul of wit"? Shakespeare knew what he was talking about. A comedy that overstays its welcome isn't, well, a comedy.

- Bad sound. So what if a film looks great? If we can't hear the dialogue we don't care. The first moment the students heard that a piece had bad sound, they'd cry "Next!"

- Underwriting and overacting. The saddest of the movies with these problems were those that looked phenomenal. Sad, because time should have been spent on re-writing and rehearsal instead of production design. Sad, because so much money had been spent.

This isn't meant as a slam on student filmmakers. They're learning the ropes and, honestly, you can run into the first and third problems in any kind of film -- Hollywood, "independent", foreign, etc.

My point is that there's something about seeing the problems back to back for hours on end -- as well as having to make choices about what stays and goes, and learning to articulate the reasons -- that is specific to the film festival selection process. It's a phenomenal chance for developing filmmakers to think about what makes a film "work."

What did the films that were selected have in common? Not much. They were a diverse group. But all had a simple, engaging story, technical proficiency, and a least a little style.

So much time in film school is spent watching "great works" and talking about what to do. (I am guilty of this as a teacher myself.) Conversely, so little is spent talking about what not to do. I guarantee that the students that sat through those 14 hours will make better films now. And maybe I will too.

Rest in Peace, Grant McLennan

I recall a bigger brighter worldA world of books And silent times in thought And then the railroad The railroad takes him home Through fields of cattle Through fields of cane

-- "Cattle and Cane" / The Go-Betweens

I first learned about The Go-Betweens when I was in film school in the mid-90s. A fellow student introduced me to them and, as I think back on it, discovering The Go-Betweens during that time was entirely appropriate. That band wrote some of the most cinematic pop songs I've ever heard.

They were a band you could love: They had that classic, two-songwriter Lennon/McCartney dynamic in Grant McLennan and Robert Forster; Lindy Morrison, their drummer, is my all-time favorite female rock n' roll drummer; and, like Fleetwood Mac's Rumours, they managed to produce a phenomenal break-up record (16 Lovers Lane) when two relationships within the band dissolved.

I met Grant McLennan once, briefly, after a show in New York in support of his solo masterpiece, Horsebreaker Star. Those moments when you tell someone how much their art has inspired you never come off quite like you mean them to, so I just said hello and that I enjoyed the show.

Today a friend sent me the news Grant McLennan died on Saturday. He died in his sleep; he was 48. I imagine that in most of the world McLennan's death will pass in the press without a blip. But for those that knew his music, he will be missed.