IFCO's TRIM BIN: Discussions on Contemporary Celluloid Practices

“EXPERIMENTAL CINEMATIC EXPRESSION: TO BE OR NOT TO BE NARRATIVE”

 What If? by Irina Lyubchenko

What does the word “experimental” mean? To me, an experimental approach in film is similar to an experimental approach in science. The difference is that there is no need to prove or disprove any hypothesis or agenda. Or, I guess, the hypothesis in experimental film is that there is no agenda. Genre films employ strategies that are traditionally used in telling a story; Love triangle, for example, has often served as a structural buttress for romantic drama films.   Placing characters in scary settings from which they can’t get out creates a sense of the unfolding doom and is a common background in suspense/thriller/horror type films. Themes of drugs and alcoholism are almost a requirement for a classic drama story. Genre films aim at a particular part of the human brain, a certain neurotransmitter, such as adrenaline, responsible for feelings of fear, or dopamine, the chemical of love. For instance, horror films attempt to scare us; a detective story – puzzles and, melodramas – play a sort of tug of war with our hearts and minds. These genres all include some form of explanation; whereas as to me – to experiment is not knowing the outcome of the experiment ahead of a time; not making any attempts at manipulating the viewer’s reaction.  To experiment is to ask the question, “What if?”

So, could or should an experimental film be narrative? If being narrative means telling a story, then aren’t all good films, experimental or not, narrative? Story means experience. Some stories are born to be told with words, some with pictures. Traditional narration in film cannot live without the use of words; it heavily relies on logos; words serve as tools of persuasion and reasoning. It seems to me that the more the structure of the visual experience is detached from the sign systems that are used in daily life, the more experimental it becomes; the more difficult it is to re-tell the film’s events if asked what the film is about. However, I would argue, the story is still there, the narration is still taking place since a new and unusual experience is being shared with the viewer. I believe this experience to be more subjective and personal since it comes from a place where words are not necessary, and cannot penetrate the psyche of the observer.

Music + Editing = Narrative by Stephanie Conkie

Experimental films are like an improvisation of music: unique, spontaneous, but still require an educated skill. To say there is no narrative, agenda or set plan to experimental films is like saying there is no purpose in artistic audio or visual expression.  

It would be easy to rule out the experimental when discussing broad and mainstream films as the prototypical way of expressing narrative and set cinematic storytelling techniques. However, what we fail to recognize are the number of other approaches to storytelling that experimental filmmakers use in their films. 

For this approach I would like to suggest that narrative could be found in experimental films, through the expression of music that accompanies the image. 

Would it be wrong to state that a number of experimental films depict what music looks like, if it were an image? 

Take for instance Norman McLaren’s short film Begone Dull Care (1949). An example of an early animation film, it can also be seen as experimental for the music that accompanies the image, which consists of coloured and scratched celluloid. 

As a graduate student and teaching assistant in the film studies program at Carleton University, a screening of Begone Dull Care in a first year film course proved that music could depict narrative in experimental films. 

Upon completion of the film, a student replied to me, “That short film, that is what jazz looks like”. Having no prior knowledge of the film the student was able to find the purpose of the film without ever knowing that Norman McLaren was doing just that, creating a visual representation of Oscar Peterson’s jazz music. Therefore, it was the music that appealed to this student, the process in which he made a connection to the abstract images on screen and the story they were trying to tell. 

In Begone Dull Care and other experimental films it is the composition that determines the exact images as they appear on screen, through a rhythmic editing process. 

Therefore, would it be wrong to state that the tone and rhythmic impulses the audience hears determine what is seen on screen? 

Rhythmic editing, a process that is often attributed to experimental filmmaking tends to downplay temporal and spatial relations, which often serve as pillars in continuity editing and provide signs of a narrative. However, there is still a narrative through the images and the rhythmic way they are shown on screen. 

The majority of film viewers who are only familiar with continuity editing may automatically see experimental films as abstract and suggest that there is no narrative. However, instead experimental films ask more from its viewers, to dig deeper. Therefore, I am suggesting that experimental films contain a narrative, whether through music, rhythmic editing or projected images, the challenge is to look beyond the surface of the film and find a story for yourself. 

Like this writer, who tends to prefer open ended conclusions to fiction filmmaking, the narrative in experimental films are often always open ended, and allow the individual viewer to find meaning in a variety of different ways. 

There is no "story" in the word "experiment" 
by Dave Johnson

          Experimental film/filmmaking/cinema, not to sound glib, is just that...an experiment with film/cinema. This experimentation is to explore the meaning of filmmaking/cinema through light, time and space. It is the unfortunate curse of mainstream cinephiles  who need to be spoon- fed a story, therefore consider experimental cinema “shit”, “pretentious” , or  “a waste of time”( during the premiere screening of Michael l Snow’s film “Wavelength” the audience members threw their chairs at the screen!).  I’m not trying to sound elitist, I too enjoy watching mainstream cinema...even cinema which would turn some people green, blue and purple... I’m CRAZY about the television series River Monsters! ... But I digress. 
        The point I’m trying to make is that experimental cinema is a work of art in which a story doesn’t need to be told. The more “successful” experimental films are those which convey an idea, or take the viewer to a sense of enlightenment in a new or different way. The way in which this is achieved, in my opinion, is through timing and rhythm.  In academia, film/cinema has been referred to as a form of poetry (this can contain either visual or include both image and sound). If one refers to this idea, not all poetry tells a story, but expresses a thought or idea rhythmically...think iambic pentameter...haiku...etc. 
        Stan Brakhage, one of the most important figures of experimental cinema, taught and inspired two filmmakers who went on to create one of television’s most successful and crass television series...we all know who they are...Matt Stone and Trey Parker of South Park fame....or David Fincher (of Fight Club and Seven fame), where Brakhage was a family friend.  One of my most memorable introductions to Brakhage’s films was his silent film Mothlight. This is a film where he collected blades of grass, flower petals, and moth wings, glued them to Mylar tape and re-photographed it to the timing of a Bach Fugue. The result is literally a visual poem created through light, time and space....and it doesn’t tell a story! In conclusion, experimental cinema should be just as it quite literally states...an experiment with film. It is then up to the filmmaker to be responsible for determining  the “story”, “message”, “rhythm”, etc.

Free-Shoot  by  Matt Joyce

As I sat in the library, trying to wrap my brain around how I was going to write a 10-page paper  on  Jeremy Bailey’s film, Full Effect (2005), I said to myself, ‘This is impossible…I can’t do this. This film doesn’t speak to me … in fact, how could this film speak to anyone? It’s not saying a thing … AHHHHHHH!’ … Then I reviewed the syllabus and made a decision. I would move on to Arthur Lipsett and that would be the end of it. I would never have to study experimental film. ever. again.
As it happens, time went on and I started to feel differently about experimental film. I started to understand where such films were coming from, began to recognize where the creative impulse was coming from – the inherent need, the longing to be heard, maybe even understood. It all made sense, especially in relation to my own difficulties as a filmmaker, an artist trying to find the means to express myself. There was a kind of reassurance in the concept of avant-garde, both in what it represented and offered to its creators. I realized there is something incredibly special about this cinematic mode of representation that we call “experimental film”.
I read something interesting the other day. Stephen Katz was talking about how out of all the different art forms, filmmaking is the longest process. (Sounds obvious, I know.) There is the longest gap between the moment of creative inception and the completion of the final ‘fleshed-out’ product. Just think about all the different stages, details, factors … the sheer time it takes even to write the script, not to mention the inevitable distraction, frustration, discouragement, the overall loss of creative potency during the grueling process of turning idea into picture. The musician on the other hand simply has to sit down and start playing and BOOM – there’s something to work with. Their act of creation manifests itself in an instant and with the gift of improvisation there’s nothing to prevent them from producing their best work off the top of the dome. The same goes for dancers and to a lesser degree, writers and visual artists. Regardless of whether the final product coalesces later, they are off to the races, so to speak, with a stroke of the brush or pen. 
This is the magic of experimental film – that running parallel to the study of film theory and the application of film practice (those narrative conventions we’ve embraced since Griffith) here is something else entirely, something that breaks down those beloved syntaxes. A pure work of unmediated expression, unmediated in the sense that such a film is a work of art, which does not pander to the expectation that it be a coherent whole; experimental film ignores the notion that movies must be products shaped to be passively viewed and absorbed by an audience. It is a self narrative, an individual narrative of the self. What do I mean by this? Human beings make sense of the world through story. Our lives are just one big story. We all have a continuous narrative going on inside of us every day. For some of us, it needs to be released. What experimental film does is it allows us to grasp and express a little of that story, a holographic fragment of ourselves. Bit by bit, little by little, film by film, we come clear.
Experimental film is not by any means a narrative in the classical sense. It does not require a three-act structure; potential spectators are not spoon-fed a cooked paradigm of beginning, middle and end. It’s raw. It does not concern itself with ‘Who am I sending this text to?’ It’s a form of expression that is actually a process of discovery, of pure perception playing with often disjunctive variables as it delves beneath exterior reality to get at something almost out of range.  By giving liquid thought a home on the screen, it incarnates a mystery.
The way experimental film approaches narrative is similar to the way ‘free-writes’ operate in creative writing. They aren’t meant to be perfect works of art. It’s more like eavesdropping on someone else’s craft. I may not enjoy watching the results but now, coming full circle in my understanding of the medium, I truly respect it. And I don’t have to enjoy it. Who am I? Armchair critics in experimental film are irrelevant. I just love the fact that there is a free stream of cinema which acts – it’s raw, it’s pure, it’s momentary. It’s not bound to anything or anyone except the mind that put it on the screen. So when André Bazin wrote sixty years ago “that the director [now] writes directly in film” …surely today, given the feeling that it has all been done before, all I can say is, ‘Please, feel free to write whatever you’d like’.

IFCO's TRIM BIN: Discussions on Contemporary Celluloid Practices

"IT'S SOOO CANADIAN".

I don't want to call myself an expert on what shapes national identity. I am an immigrant and my cultural boundaries are in a constant state of mutation, creating new dynamic relationships with the environment I am now in. However, I was told once "do not lose your Russianness". So, even though I am floating in indecisiveness regarding who I am, I possess "Russianness" that is an indistinguishable part of my  identity.

If we blew up the scale of an identity map from a single individual to the whole country, we would see that "Canadianness" persists the same way as my "Russianness" does. Culture caught on celluloid becomes fixed filmic evidence, similar to that of a scene in a suspense film; where one can search for the elusive clues of what "Canadianness" means. Now, I am on a mission, on my new personal quest to try and formulate my own definition of "Canadianness". I will keep you posted on how this investigation unfolds.

Truly yours,
Irina Lyubchenko

SOOO CANADIAN EH! by PATRICE JAMES

It’s interesting how often I’ve encountered, or even myself uttered the phrase – “that’s sooo Canadian”, not only in reference to Canadian cinema, but in reference to so many ‘things’ that can be considered to be just “sooo Canadian”.  In actuality I’ve had a relationship with this nation of ‘in-betweens’ for a long time even before I arrived in Canada nearly 23 years ago.  I grew up watching Canadian TV shows like The Littlest Hobo; Beachcombers and  The Raccoons; wow I’m really dating myself.  And long before I entered into film studies at Carleton University, I’d already developed a preconceived notion about Canada and its ever ambiguous landscape and culture(s) etceteras.  My perception of this land was that it was extremely isolated, naked of any real dynamism; trapped in between some sort of makeshift identity, that had some whisperings of both USA and UK cultural markers.  I mean; the language, music, culture and geography is somewhat similar, yet greatly dissimilar all at once to the latter nations’.
I began to ultimately grasp some understanding of what is meant by “sooo Canadian”, especially during my stint at Carleton.  I began to identify with the angst of displaced characters , like Peter and Joey in Donald Shebib’s iconic film - Goin' Down the Road.  Wasn’t my family and I, and sooo many Canadians, just like these characters in one main way?  I mean, I’m not a young white male from Nova Scotia, travelling to the big urban centre (Toronto) in search of a better life; but I was a young immigrant who travelled half way across the world, from a little West Indian island, with my family in search of a better life and new beginning in Canada.
I think so much of being Canadian is wrapped up in this constant search for something more!  Something more beyond the class we’re born into; beyond our gender limitations; beyond other imagined, or real social constraints.  As well, like Peter and Joey, a lot of people will never be able to escape certain prescribed stations in life, no matter how hard they try; they’ll remain perpetual underdogs, and though this may seem extremely fatalistic;  I’m often fascinated by just how many other Canadian films I’ve enjoyed over the years, which situate their protagonists in environments or situations, which somehow often ends up displacing them; ‘born losers’ so to speak.
Another common notion that comes to mind as soon as I conjecture about what is meant by “sooo Canadian”, is a perception of a Canadian obsession with duality; cultural duality, linguistic duality, geographic duality.  Sooo many Canadians want to be from ‘somewhere else’, and for those of us who immigrated here, we’re either constantly trying to assimilate, or desperately trying to hold on to our original culture(s).  Canadian cinema has been instrumental in its attempts to explore, delineate and explain this constant Canadian dichotomy of dualities. 
Films for instance like Deepa Mehta’s Heaven on Earth speak directly to both our need as Canadians born or naturalized, to be constantly in search of something more, something better; along with certain of our struggles around cultural duality.  In Heaven and Earth, the film’s leading female protagonist (Chand), leaves her homeland of India to relocate to Ontario, Canada.  She has left all that is familiar to her behind, to embark on a promising new life, as a happy new bride.  Surely one’s perception is that she will enjoy a much higher quality of life in ANYWHERE Ontario, Canada, when compared to what her quality of life in India might have been.  As the film unravels though; we see that this new bride, although in a new and more modernized land, becomes trapped in a cycle of violence which is deeply mired in her traditional Indian culture.  She has one foot in the new world, and the other foot in the old world, and when both worlds collide, her only escape is through her OWN imagination.
So when I think about the notion of a “Sooo Canadian” cinematic experience; I think of a Canadian obsession with always searching, and being trapped between dual experiences/realities.

National Cinematic Identity. What is it? by DAVE JOHNSON

I cannot consider myself an authority on the subject of cinematic identity, but being that I am a practitioner in the celluloid arts and a Canadian. I am submitting a “rant”, if you will, on what I believe should be a form of national cinema.
It is without a doubt that Canadian cinema was born through the loins of the National Film Board of Canada (NFB). This cinema was that of primarily documentary genre and later animation. These early generation NFB films created a whole industry for Canada as a self sustained unit, creating stories of so called far away lands only to be shown within Canadian theaters as news reels. Moving forward to 1967, the first screening of Michael Snow’s film Wavelength was received with the audience members throwing their chairs in reaction to such a film. With this, some could argue, was the birth of Canadian avante-garde film, even though the film debut was in New York(?). In the 80’s we saw Canadian films, produced through American companies, such as Porkies, Meatballs, etc. and the establishment of such directors as David Cronenberg, Atom Egoyan, etc. etc.  All this just scrapes the surface of the history of Canadian Cinema. If one was to throw all this in a bowl we would then have a salad of different styles and influences. Are these good examples of Canadian cinema? Well, one could argue that this is separate from American cinema in that they all have some sort of temporal displacement, landscape becomes the muse, characters, even the so called heroes are unsavoury, and essay upon essay has been and will be written making one point or another defining “OUR” cinema.
Let’s move on from this tired debate and talk briefly about the 1985 manifesto of R. Bruce Elder "The Cinema We Need."

“In this essay, Elder attacks the attempt on the part of Canadian filmmakers to make "New Narrative film": a cinema that is different from Hollywood cinema's desire for traditional storytelling and which draws upon, in part, the aesthetic of the Canadian avant-garde. Elder claims that Canadian narrative cinema will never be able to compete with American products and that this "New Narrative cinema" engages in a process of vandalization and commercialization of the Canadian avant-garde tradition.” (Referenced from National Identity, Canadian Cinema, and Multiculturalism:  Scott MacKenzie, University of Glasgow http://www.uqtr.ca/AE/vol_4/scott.htm).

Now I’ve been known to miss an obvious point or two, but, from a certain context, and from a cultural viewpoint, this states that we need to ignore the American import and concentrate on our own engineering of cinema. The only way this could be done is through political awareness, education (or an unbiased knowledge of cinema as an art form, not just an entertainment industry) and through support for artist centers and cooperatives. If we want to define Canadian cinema we must continue to create and support it despite of what our imports tell us. A Canadian cinematic identity will only be prevalent if we choose to create one. From a practitioner’s point of view, I would like to not worry so much about trying to identify and worry more about engineering our own cinema… keep creating with awareness and put it on the big screen, a screen, ANY screen! The more we create the more we will be recognized!!! Create, don’t be Created!!!!

By MATTHEW A. MACDONALD

I don't mean to offend anyone, but ...

When I was teenager (1993-1999), and before I was particularly passionate about filmmaking and took a genuine liking for the certainly not mainstream films of Jean-Luc Goddard, Vittorio De Sica, and Michelangelo Antonioni (though, alas, no Canadian directors of note), my friends and I generally understood that if one of us referred to a movie or television show as being "so Canadian," it simply meant the production values were relatively low, the images were inexplicably grainer than American productions we were used to seeing, the acting was not quite as good as American productions, and the movie or show itself was often not quite as interesting.

This may sound harsh, but it's true, and I think it was, and perhaps is still, true for a lot of people. For example, the writing and acting in the new TV show "Chicago Code" is clearly a cut above the writing and acting in the Canadian "Rookie Blue," although Canadian production values have otherwise definitely improved since the 1990s compared to American productions.

When I first met the woman who would become my wife, she expressed the same feeling about Canadian cinema. Canadian movies, she felt, just didn't stand up very well next to American movies, at least most of the time. Sure, she loved Canadian children's shows like "Danger Bay," but her general feeling was that Canadian movies and TV shows were, on a whole, not so much "so Canadian," but rather "too Canadian."

In 1995, for instance, while U.S. studios released movies like Apollo 13, Braveheart, Babe, Sense and Sensibility, Dead Man Walking, Leaving Las Vegas, and Nixon, Canadian filmmakers gave us what? Here are the Genie nominees for Best (Canadian) Picture of 1995:

(1) "Magic in the Water," a children's film about which Roger Ebert writes: "One of the problems with the first two-thirds of "Magic in the Water" is that we don't see Orky [the sea creature the movie is focused on]. One of the problems with the last third is that we do. Orky turns out to be singularly uncharismatic, looking like an ashen Barney on downers. ... "Magic in the Water" is innocuous fun, but slow, and not distinguished in the special effects department."

(2) "Le Confessional"

(3) "Liste noire"

(4) "Margaret's Museum" [a decent, if still a bit "too-Canadian" film, in my opinion]

(5) "Rude"

Huh?

Yes, the U.S. spends a lot more money on films, which accounts for its higher output and generally higher production values, but then it seems the Canadian solution is a strange one: produce films that are too-often so culturally idiosyncratic and self-absorbed that they only rarely and then often only tangentially touch upon universal themes that would allow them to appeal to a broader audience and break out of the "so Canadian/too Canadian" mold.

Part of the problem may be the hybrid identity life in Canada often forces upon people. It is often said that Americans, the British, the French, the Japanese, and so on, generally have a much clearer, more coherent, positive sense of national identity than Canadians, who very often include "not American" as an implicit part of their self-understanding. As a result, I suspect, it may be easier for filmmakers from these countries to move beyond persistent personal questions of identity and belonging to make films with more confidence and much broader appeal because they focus on more universal themes or, when they focus on more idiosyncratic concerns, at least they do not simply assume that audiences will care—they actually make an effort to show the audience why it should care.

Sure, it's important to tell different, meaningful stories, and Canadian filmmakers certainly do. But when Canadian cinema becomes mired in cultural idiosyncrasy and narcissistically obsessed with telling Canadian stories and stories about it's search for "identity," all the while simply assuming that other people will care, as I believe it sometimes does, instead of simply telling good stories, it suffers and becomes "too much."

Kaleidoscope by IRINA LYUBCHENKO

Long before I knew I was going to come to Canada I watched the film Léolo that was nominated for 1992 Cannes Film Festival and was directed by Canadian filmmaker Jean-Claude Lauzon. I assumed it was French but to my surprise I discovered it was made in Canada. My Russian TV, which delivered stories of anxiety and political cataclysms daily, never mentioned Canada in any of them. Even though I knew where it was positioned geographically, I almost didn’t believe in its existence. It was a mythical land to me.
I didn’t hear the stories of violence coming from this country but I knew that great films were coming out. Furthermore, I identified with Canada because it had the National Film Board, this Government funded agency supported animation as did my favorite Russian animation studio, Soyuzmultfilm.
I have to admit that my knowledge of Canadian cultural landscape back then was shaped by the voices that were directed outside of the country where they originated from, towards foreigners. These voices shaped Canadian cultural identity for me. Now I am inside this voice-making machine, hearing multiplicities, that are not edited down to create coherence, a unified body of national identity. The cultural picture I am now trying to assemble is not a jigsaw puzzle, where each piece has its original purpose and creates meaning only when it is in the right place. I would like to think of Canadian culture as of kaleidoscope, where with each slight movement an original mosaic is created, emphasizing the unique charisma of Canadian culture that allows re-editing of the national identity in a continuous cycle of multicultural transformation.

“Nothing” at the Library or Give us Access to Canadian Cinema! by Irina Lyubchenko

How hard is it to find a Canadian film on the shelves of a library or a movie rental outlet, such as Rogers? It is hard. I naively thought that I would be able to borrow or rent a Canadian film from anywhere where they rent DVDs. I asked for Atom Egoyan’s films in one of the locations of the Ottawa Public library; none of his films the library owned were available at the location. Besides this, in most cases there was only one copy of each film shared among all the library locations. The waiting time to see one of Egoyan’s films was up to 15 weeks! Since there was no separate shelf for Canadian cinema it meant that I had to look at each DVD box individually to identify the country where the film was made.

Ironically, what I found among the DVD boxes was “Nothing”, a film directed by a Canadian filmmaker Vincenzo Natali. My neighbour hood video rental store offered nothing substantial at all. Of course I know that there are local resources available for studying and enjoying Canadian cinema, such as the Canadian Film Institute, the Independent Filmmakers Co-operative of Ottawa Inc. (IFCO), and the Available Light Screening Collective to name a few. There are also local video stores such as Invisible Cinema, Elgin Street Video (258 Elgin St) and Glebe Video (779 Bank St) that are much more devoted to cinematic art than some of the larger video store chains.  I think, though, that the culture of the country one lives in, should be a lot more accessible; the barriers associated with one’s desire to get exposed to the arts of its own country must be completely eliminated. There is an active interest in Canadian cinema but there is not enough access to it!

GIVE IT TO US!!! MAKE CULTURE ACCESSIBLE!

PS By the way, I did watch “Nothing”. The main characters in this film were the underdogs, yet again.

CANADIAN: A RETURN TO COMMON SENSE by Dan Gainsford

There's an old saying, "We speak the world into being." With language we shape our world, out of the primordial realm of vibration things become manifest.

Our national cinema plays an important part in what we consider to be language, but I would argue the role of a deeper Canadian cinema in our broader culture isn't nearly significant enough. These days it seems it's distinctly Canadian to feed at the trough of mass media slop. Our national cinema is too often sidelined to the fringes by Survivor XXXVI, reruns of Star Wars Episode II, or any other mass media machinery muck, be it American or Canadian, since it's all the same machine as far as I can tell. A machine chained by old men, old policy, and old status quo thinking. A machine geared towards what sells safely, rather than innovation, and change. And I would argue this safe and steady governMental approach is distinctly Canadian.

This is not to say that some brilliant works don't slip into the mix, in fact I think much of Canadian Cinema is just that, brilliant! It's the rest of the popular culture that needs an overhaul, and a redirect of the copious amounts of money going to television schlock to be shifted towards independent Canadian film. And hey, here's a novel idea, why not actually invest in marketing our content once it's created... last time I checked, the average Hollywood film put approx 50% of it's budget towards marketing.. compared to Canadian film at 3-5%... hmm.. shelf, dustbunnies, and invisibility.. here we come!

As a result of the current industry policy, it comes as no surprise that we live in an increasingly vapid Canadian cultural paradigm. We find ourselves more concerned with our materialistic technowidgets, passing trends regurgitated as uniquely Canadian, and a monoculture of worker drones all striving for the American Dream of wealth, power, beauty and fame.

Jaded..? actually, overall, I'm not.

In fact, in spending the last five years living in a van from the Arctic to Panama, the one thing I've noticed is not how distinctly different we are, but how similar we are with the rest of the world. And I don't mean in regards to mass media culture, but below the surface of the popular glaze/gaze. The other thing I've realized is that most of these 'important' questions, aren't really all that important. "This too shall pass."

Good ol' Darwin spoke to notions of competition in the natural world, however the other side of his writings, now mostly forgotten, emphasized the importance of cooperation and collaboration. It's time for us to reawaken the collaborative spirit and not waste our time focusing on how different we all are. After all, you're unique, just like everyone else, so let's get on with it!

So what is it that makes us distinctly Canadian? I'd say the conversation is kinda a load of shit to begin with. I feel it's a false dichotomy just like Liberal vs. Conservative, Republican vs. Democrat.. Canadian vs. American... Just more mental masturbation for the masses. Not to say that our national identity or cinema isn't important, but more to say for me it's not a question of what is Canadian, but instead a question of what is intrinsically human?

In this world of capitalist monoculture we should still explore being Canadian, but I think it's more urgent for us as Canadians to explore a return to earthly common sense. And this return comes from the ground up, not from government policy, not from distribution dollars, (although these could help) but from people fighting as they have throughout history to have their voices heard. And I think through this fight, we find that our voice as people is not reflected in the mass media/language that we find ourselves consuming on a daily basis. And I think while searching and fighting for this often marginalized common voice we move beyond the mass media, and in that maybe we come full circle back to what it is to be a Canadian media artist... at least I hope so.

In a conversation with a guru of sorts in Guatemala, I was given a piece of what I now consider to be golden advice,

"Strive to be ordinary."

I feel it's advice worth repeating.

I think this is what makes Canadians what we are, on the whole we're just ordinary regular people, just like everyone else. In fact, we're increasingly made up of everyone else, and now this is becoming increasingly Canadian. All this distinctly Canadian pursuit of an extraordinary national identity is just a national ego clusterfuck. That being said, I do want to make extraordinary cinema. Or maybe I want to make extraordinarily ordinary cinema.. and maybe in being ordinary, in a world of people striving, at all costs, to be extraordinary... we may just end up connecting to a common voice of the people, not just in Canada, but around the world...?

... I would argue that this is what has made Canadian cinema so great all along...

 peace,d