IFCO'S SPROCKETS BLOG

2012-01-19T18:04:00.000-05:00

IFCO's TRIM BIN: Discussions on Contemporary Celluloid Practices

2011-12-25T15:14:00.003-05:00

“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.

2011-12-24T14:59:00.007-05:00

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.

2011-11-22T17:45:00.003-05:00

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.

2011-10-22T13:02:00.001-04:00

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

2011-07-16T14:58:00.000-04:00

"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

2011-07-16T11:22:00.000-04:00

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

2011-07-07T15:04:00.000-04:00

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

2011-07-05T16:06:00.000-04:00

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

2011-07-03T15:38:00.000-04:00

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

2011-07-02T18:15:00.000-04:00

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

2011-07-01T15:30:00.000-04:00

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

IFCO Member Profile

2010-08-25T16:55:00.000-04:00

Name: Paul Gordon
Membership: Full Member, since 2005

Films:
Selected Filmography
Rambled, 1998, 16mm, Black and White, 50 minutes, Drama
Dump Talk, 2001, 16mm/DV Comdey/Doc multi-part television show
Baghdad or Bust, 2003, Feature length documentary, DV/Super 8, 70mins
Super 8 Winter, 2004, 5mins, Super 8
The Changeover, 2006, 8mins super 8, 35mm, DV
E.I life, 2006, Super 8, 3mins
The Incident at Smiths Falls, 2008, 13mins super 8/HD
Short cuts and Pathways, 2010, Super 8, 8mins

1. Why do you make films? When did you realize wanted to make films?
I've always been a movie junky, growing up near the Mayfair theatre probably started it all. It was a chance to see classic/cult films before everyone had a VCR. I started making films in high school on Video 8.

2. What's your process of creation? Who's involved with it?
Most of my films are created on the fly. I always have a "basic plan" but most of my non-narrative films are simply created/tied together in post after I know what I have on the visual side. Dramatic films are always scripted, and storyboarded though. I also like to always location scout before a shoot, taking photos or video of planned locations. I generally try to get a small crew together that I have worked with before... I always go back to the same people.

3. When making films, do you think to adopt a certain style or common theme?
Not really I'm kinda all over the place...though I really like to tie in original music recorded around the time of filming or just after. The music sets the mood.

4. Where to do you look for inspiration?
Fellow filmmakers, Canadian indie films from the 70's and 80's, and literature.

5. What are the advantages/disadvantages of being a filmmaker in Ottawa?
Advantages: A nice pool of gear that is usually pretty available and easy to book. Zero hassle when it comes to filming in Ottawa, or surrounding locations.

Disadvantages: Small crew/actor pool to choose from for bigger budget dramatic shoots. Filmmaking in Ottawa is always a side project and finding people or time when everybody has a day job can be difficult. And finally finding cash to mount bigger projects can be tough when your competing for funding with larger centres like Toronto.

6. What ultimately determines a good film in your opinion?
It has to be engaging whether that is a good story, unique visuals, or a well produced sound scape.

7. What is your personal mission statement?
To try and have enough time to shoot a couple new works every year.

IFCO Member Profile

2010-08-20T14:20:00.000-04:00

Name: Irina Lyubchenko
Films: Le néant hauté l`être, Milk, Tea, Untitled (Flour)

1. Why do you make films? When did you realize wanted to make films?
I have a background in photography and I have always been interested in creating spaces for the camera to photograph. At one point the scene in front of the camera started to involve temporal elements and I felt it was important to document this shift. That was the discovery of the medium of film for me.

2. What's your process of creation? Who's involved with it?
I usually have an idea that would be a highly defined still image in my imagination. I start from that and advance it further by making sketches and doing some research. The initial still image that I first imagined evolves into a moving one during this stage of development. When I feel I am ready to test it out I ask my friends Mark Macdonald and Virginia Bullock to assist me. They are my team.

3. When making films, do you think to adopt a certain style or common theme?
Yes, I do. My films have been rather experimental and abstract, involving the themes of adding or subtracting, revealing or hiding and of emotional overflowing expressed through material metaphors. The new film I have in mind will be inspired by the German Expressionist cinema.

4. Where do you look for inspiration?
In having a good time and being attentive to myself and surroundings. In trying new things and learning impractical skills.

5. What are the advantages/disadvantages of being a filmmaker in Ottawa?
Advantages: The community is very welcoming and IFCO stuff is amazing! Thank you guys for doing your job with so much expertise and joy!

Disadvantages: Not enough big film festivals in Ottawa that would feature experimental films as well. Or are there any?

6. What ultimately determines a good film in your opinion?
I believe a good film should provide a ground for an aesthetic and mental re-evaluation of norms prevalent in a viewer’s head.

7. What is your personal mission statement?
Mission is a scary word. I hope to be able to continue to make films that will be able to communicate ideas behind those films. Filmmaking is a much more complicated, time consuming and subtle way of talking to people and that’s what I want to do, to say that which couldn’t be said in words as successfully.

Toward an Ecology of Film: An Interview with Alex MacKenzie

2010-06-28T16:25:00.003-04:00

In February 2010, IFCO promoted a performance by Alex Mackenzie called The Wooden Lightbox: A Secret Art of Seeing, which was presented at the Mercury Lounge. A small but very appreciative crowd turned out to watch a beautiful and mesmerizing show that transported us back to some of the earliest days of cinema. I sent the following questions to Alex via email and here is what he had to say.

Claudio Cacciotti: The Lightbox performance connects with some of the earliest practices in the history of cinema (thinking about Muybridge and his Zoopraxiscope, Anschütz and his Electrotachyscope, Edison and the Kinetoscope). What concerns did the Lightbox address and what difficulties did it solve/create for you?

Alex Mackenzie: I think the Lightbox piece started to take shape when I began to take an interest in all the models and practical devices that were developed in the period when cinema was in its pre-infancy – not quite born. This was a period inspired both mechanically and philosophically by precisely the kind of devices you mention, but not quite yet established as its own specific entity. I was curious about what qualities of life, technology, economics, social concerns, etc. had come together to result in cinema as we know it today. Along the way – and it was a short period really, in the bigger picture – a raft of camera, film and projector devices were being proposed and manufactured from many zones: inventors, magicians, scientists, photographers, entrepreneurs, philosophers, chemists. In retrospect, this seems like a flurry of activity all driving towards some cohesive “final version”, when in actual fact a multitude of motivations and interests were happening simultaneously given the zeitgeist and cultural climate of the time. The fact that one or two primary formats rose above all the others in the end has more to do with mass cultural consumption, so-called market demand (and perceived/invented need), than it does with good and bad ideas. The parallel development and proliferation of the internal combustion engine, factories, urbanization, etc. are all precisely aligned with this formatting as very central elements in the development of mass production and the age of consumerism. But my curiosity revolved specifically around what it was “in our heads” that might have been more openly and freely explored had the limits and shape of the market and world at that time not existed. In very simple terms, it was a going back to square one in order to understand where my interests genuinely lie in the use of film and cinema as a means of expression. A stripping down and return to that moment seemed like the right approach.

I don’t know that it has solved anything for me, though it did allow a place to begin, as slippery as it was, as well as a trajectory. If anything, it has begged more questions, but it has also reinvigorated my interest in the moving image. There is never any clearing away of all the history, but by returning to the beginning, it seems a kind of clarity is possible.

CC: One of the themes of modern art has been the "rejection of beauty in the artist’s search for the sublime" (Steiner). In the Hoolboom interview you discuss beauty as central to your work. Can you elaborate upon your reconstitution of beauty back into the narrative of modern art and what, if any, other canonical notions of modern aesthetic practices do you reject?

AM: The sublime can only ever be presented as an expression in art. To actually inhabit it requires a real-world, non-representational experience, moment, observance, etc. I think it can really only successfully exist outside the symbolic, in nature itself, as much as we might aspire to it in art. If you create a thunderstorm in a lab, as a sculpture, in a movie, well, it just isn’t the same thing. The symbolic is a distancing device, not a way in. John Zerzan talks about a period some 10, 000 years ago that precedes the symbol, and actually blames art for a lot of the world’s ills, or at least points to it as the moment when a reshaping of our relationship to the world began to change the way we inhabit the planet – a great little essay I would recommend everybody have a look at. (You can find it online at http://www.primitivism.com/case-art.htm).

With all that in mind, I don’t actually think I am trying consciously or unconsciously to reconstitute beauty back into the narrative of modern art, but I do think we can all be moved by something that we are drawn into. Film is an incredibly manipulative medium that makes no bones about its manipulations, and so I like to draw attention to that as well as become an accomplice in it, hopefully in the service of some critical thought.

CC: In his book Expanded Cinema, Youngblood suggests that a syncretic process is at work with many of the filmmakers in this field. In the Lightbox show what are some of the ideas you are attempting to reconcile?

AM: Gene Youngblood’s book, while a great read, seems to me to pin a lot of hope onto technology as a way out of the perceived limitations of media art. The wonder and awe of the future, the decentralization of power, etc. Well…not really. Nice idea though. Prescient in some ways, but we shouldn’t kid ourselves the power is in any way in our hands. The further we move away from ourselves, the further we move away from any real insight and present.

With The Wooden Lightbox, I don’t think I am really trying to radically redefine or retool familiar tropes or positions in the study and writing on so-called expanded cinema, film as art, or the various manifestations that film can take outside of the narrative realm (experiential, structuralist, sculptural, etc). But I am informed by all of these dialogues, and they have motivated my practice – they act as reference points and points of departure most definitely.

Above all I am interested in finding a new relationship with the moving image and presenting an audience with the possibility of another way of seeing; using the senses in a way that might create a critical and engaged involvement in their experience. But I think any art is really seeking to do the same – the tools are certainly different, but the final sensation and the direction that it might turn your head (hopefully a new direction), is central.

The best art for me has always been work that seems both new and familiar, that moves me as well as challenges my expectations, and leaves me feeling like something has just taken place, that a dialogue of sorts has been opened or begun.

CC: In the second part of his book he proclaims “an end of drama through the development of a synesthetic cinema” (Youngblood). Our collaboration on Parallax revealed for me an inherent drama in your work. How do you balance the formal, technical elements of your process with the humane and social ones?

AM: I think this once again speaks to the inherent manipulative nature of the moving image, and our long established relationship with it as an audience – we know the rules and we tend to follow them without even thinking about the possibility of another way in. I am always trying to propose another way for myself, but I agree that drama is a part of the experience no matter how you choose to manage the elements at your disposal. The simple passage of time creates expectation. A film has a beginning, middle and end. These two qualities inherent to the form cannot eliminate drama, and in fact encourage it.

In theory, it seems to me that a synesthetic cinema would, in fact, be quite dramatic by its very nature. But none of this has to involve narrative or any kind of storytelling. Paintings are dramatic, so are sculptures. The question becomes what we can do with that drama, how we can turn it on its head to maybe lead the audience into something else. Therein lies the balance, and how it is done both technically and in terms of content is really a matter of trying out a broad range of gestures, tricks, pacing, contrasts – all the ingredients we find in the cinema – and see what might be done to retool them into something new. A painter discovers that two colours placed beside each other in a certain manner evoke something very particular, and they go from there.

CC: The label "filmmaker" seems inadequate to describe your artistic pursuits since at varying stages you become a lab technician by hand processing your own images, an engineer in order to build the projector, as well as the projectionist and performer of the show itself. What conditions within contemporary filmmaking led you to pursue such a radicalization of the concept of the auteur?

AM: It seems to make a lot of sense to me in retrospect, the more it has become apparent that I am taking this path. A lot of filmmakers coined as “experimental” or “visionary” in the ‘70s came out of painting and sculpture, seeing film as another material with which to work that took up a different kind of space beyond the physical. I feel like in a lot of ways I have ended up going the other way to the same ends – moving away from cinema as cinema, and leading it more and more towards a space occupied by both painting and sculpture. Shaping it in ways more akin to these art practices while still maintaining the inherent light and time qualities that the moving image inextricably is steeped in and born of. My practice is similar to that of a studio artist, in that I am working with and handling materials, constructing elements of the work, and performing the final piece. The auteur theory really stems from exactly that – the voice of the writer/director rising above all the potential noise of studios, the industrial filmmaking system, etc. The final goal for me would seem to be to put the means of production at all levels into the hands of the individual artist/filmmaker. I am really just taking it the next logical step, and am able to more easily move in that direction as I am not burdened by interference. Nor, in theory, is a painter or sculptor. That said, I wouldn’t underestimate the influence of the gallery system, nor the manager/artist representative/agent. Again, it is how one chooses to proceed in a field dominated by market interests and trends, and how important “career” becomes along the way.

CC: How does the notion that we are living in an ever expanding mediascape, where the co-option of visual imagery seems unstoppable and the way it affects "how people see," problematize the creation and reception of your images and what strategies did it force you adopt to solve them?

AM: I think my work is in fact born of this mediascape, and far from problematizing, the mediascape is in many ways responsible for it. I am, finally, responding to this mediascape. I wouldn’t be making this work were it not for this mediascape. I think this is something that is really applicable to any artistic media practice. We can comment upon it, maybe even seek to exist outside it, but I think we tend to straddle these two spaces in the end. I certainly can’t make people see how I want them to, I can only suggest ways of seeing, and maybe create work that encourages a critical dialogue with both my interests and then the environment that this audience inhabits outside my shows. That is how it has worked for me: the work I have seen that I like usually informs how I perceive and inhabit the spaces of my daily life. It encourages a different way of seeing, thinking, being. As simple as that might sound, I can’t really imagine that art serves any other purpose. And so I wasn’t forced to adopt any strategies, they simply had to exist. Otherwise, I would only be repeating things.

CC: I have had the privilege of knowing you for many years, and been able to witness the interplay between the ideas that influence your life and those that influence your art. At the risk of introducing too broad a topic, can you discuss how some of your ecological concerns have informed your media art work?

AM: I have long been interested in the ways we have chosen to act upon the conditions presented to us as human beings, and what may have triggered these. What got us in this mess… if you know what I mean. When we study the various arms of anthropology and ecology, we learn that things were actually really good on this planet for a very long time. Millions of years, in fact. Populations were stable, food was plentiful, and contrary to popular belief the natural world was not threatening, but rather abundant and helpful. This is on record, not some fantasy or romantic imagining of the past. When you really start to study this stuff, it becomes apparent to that our perceived intelligence has, at base, done us more harm than good. It is impossible for us to go backwards of course, we can’t undo this intelligence or wish away our knowledge. The apple has been bitten. But it begs the question: why did this turn occur? The most convincing theories point to a period when we were actually greedy for the first time, and where the individual slowly began to take precedence over the group. Many date this to about 10, 000 years ago, and consider the division of labour and the rise of agriculture to have spawned much of our future woes. This has been discussed in detail by such authors as Derrick Jensen and Daniel Quinn, among others. The move from tribal models to those of industry and specialization, technological advancement, etc. It is a lot to go into here, but suffice it to say that this ongoing interest, and the reading I have done in this area have in many ways spawned some elements of the work and various approaches I have been pursuing. While the correlation may not be immediately apparent, ways of living and intended trajectories are both wrapped up in these interests: self-reliance in combination with community-oriented approaches (both in teaching and in presenting work), a continued move toward broad knowledge and skill sets in combination with simple lifestyle choices, critical thought and a considered analysis of social and cultural systems. It really comes down to a constant re-evaluation of how and why I am going about things the way I am, and how all of these things inevitably connect to one another. As John Muir said, when you try and pick any single thing out, you inevitably find it tied to everything else. At core, an ongoing desire to inhabit and explore the natural world is pretty central to the work I have been making for the past 10 years, as is a conflicted relationship with the City and all the tangents that leads into.

CC: Technology and ecology do not always make for comfortable bedfellows but your engagement of them, in the Lightbox performance in particular, points to a synthesis rather than separation of these ideas. How did you resolve the tensions, both at the philosophical and practical level, so as to develop your current praxis?

AM: I don’t think I have resolved anything except maybe a recognition that the tool is not to blame, but rather the shaping of the space it occupies. I am still working on the tensions. It may well be that they inhabit the work itself.

CC: On your website you link to an interview with John Zerzan, someone who is known for his anti-civilization writings. Can you highlight where anarcho-primitive ideas influence the theory and practice of your art/life?

AM: I am a big fan of Zerzan’s writing, as inconsistent and overblown as it can sometimes be. I think his written work takes radical positions more often than not simply to get people thinking and give them a bit of a kick in the pants. I like this approach, especially these days when so many soft tactics are utterly fruitless. He is willing to entertain possibilities that most people don’t even want to begin to think about. The environmental movement is a really tired place to spend time for me, but anarcho-primitivist concepts and philosophy actually snap me into alertness. It seems to me that if we don’t consider these ideas, we are closing off promising engagement and dialogue. A move away from technology is primary to Zerzan’s thesis, as is an aggressive critique of the tenets of civilization: art, language, number. At core, he is interested in eliminating domination. It is hard to speak about this kind of thing with people who have a knee-jerk reaction or uninformed idea about the concepts of anarchism and primitivism, and suffice it to say that Zerzan is not living in a cave, nor am I. Much as I discussed earlier, it boils down to a constant questioning and inquiry into the things we take for granted, and this inevitably informs how we live and work. Critical thought.

CC: You once described yourself to me as an interlocutor in your chosen field but I also know that you have an uneasy (the anxiety of exposure?...no pun intended) relationship with that position. How does this affect the art you produce? How do you resolve the internal conflicts that must arise and how does this resolution play itself out in your films?

AM: If by interlocutor you mean that I am a voice for a certain kind of artistic practice, then I would say that there is a fairly limited amount of dialogue about this kind of work and I inevitably find myself fairly regularly contextualizing what I do as well as encouraging others to explore these ideas. But by and large the kind of work I make is very much under the radar. I think that speaks to a kind of limited appeal and specificity of interests that have no real intention of capturing the imagination of millions, you know? I prefer not to spend time justifying what I do. Play, self-expression, these ideas of authentic experience that Zerzan is driving at – none of these are built upon or court an economy, which is appropriate and very central to what they are. But certainly there is a community of interest and I am in fact more than happy to explore ideas with this community. I think the excitement is in how that community and the work favour the embracing of the real over the manufactured, the experiential over the predictable, while still allowing for the analytical and conceptual. There is no economy here, and so the work tends to inhabit a fairly small space. And small is good.

CC: After the battery of questions I have subjected you to I hope you can have some fun with this last section. I am just creating subject headings for you to improvise on. I am hoping that the results are both serious and irreverent.

Words of Advice for Emerging Filmmakers:

(Cribbed from advice I have received over the years from sage elder filmers.)

Keep your overhead low and your aspirations high.

Don’t spend too much time in the dark.

You need to have your own experiences in order to have something to say.

Show where you want to show – don’t wait for invitations, they may never come.

Remember to eat.

A Syllabus for a Course in Expanded Cinema:

Find yourself a projector, look at how it works, take it apart a little, and put it back together again as best you can.

Find any old film, hold it up to the light and react to what you see by doing something to it.

Run it through the projector and effect it some more based on what you see there.

Repeat until the film won’t run through anymore.

Now let it burn in the gate by running the sprockets the wrong way around and sliding it through slowly by hand.

Remember that this is the oldest trick in the book, but it still looks great.

Go for a long walk and think about what you’ve done, and what you want to do next. Begin again.

If after 5 cycles of this kind you are fed up, then find something else to do.

If, on the other hand, you are still interested, keep at it. Something will start to develop.

Definitions (within the context of Expanded Cinema):

1) The Room

Four walls is better than 3, but having no fourth wall might be a good way to get out if you have to. At least one white wall is fairly important, unless you have no intention of turning the projector on. Ceilings can make good screens. Doors are better than windows.

2) The Audience

At least one, preferably present for the performance. Remember that this is who you are conversing with, so be courteous. Serve tea if you have to.

3) The Film

Feel free to do whatever you like with it. Light passing through can net results, but is not mandatory. Dispensing with it altogether is okay too.

4) The Projector

A working bulb is nice. A take up reel will prevent a big clean up later. Then again, there is nothing quite like a giant pile of film in a room. Luis Recoder did a nice simple installation of this projectionist’s nightmare, and I have experienced it first hand as have many projectionists I have talked to in the past. Just remember the distributor wants it back in the end, unless you own it.

5) The Projectionist

That’s you. So know your tools, and above all, be prepared to improvise.

6) The Frame

Entirely up for interpretation. One person’s frame is another person’s flashlight. Also: film melts. As one small child once famously said upon seeing the black bubbling and melting frame of celluloid on the giant screen in front of them: “It’s like pepsi!”.

7) The Filmmaker

See #5

8) The Soundtrack

Optional. Collaboration is encouraged. Avoid synchronization at all costs, it will only take you on a fruitless chase. You will never catch that rabbit before the show is over and then you will have missed all the scenery.

9) The Past

But a memory.

10) The Future

Inevitable.

11) The Present

As long as you are in it, #9 and #10 hold true and take care of themselves.

by Claudio Cacciotti

SATYAJIT RAY: The Indian Filmmaker

2010-01-19T17:58:00.003-05:00

Satyajit Ray (2 May 1921-23 April 1992) was a Bengali Indian Film maker who was born in Kolkata, India into a Bengali Family of art and literature. He started his career as a commercial artist in Kolkata and went on to become to win international recognition in films.

On a visit to London he met Jean Renoir the French Filmmaker and saw the neorealist film Bicycle Thief (1948) by Vittorio De sica after which he decided to try his hands on filmmaking.

In 1952, Ray started shooting his first film Pather Panchali with an inexperienced crew and some personal savings. It took him three years to complete the film and finally, with a loan from the Government of West Bengal it was released in 1955 and went on to win eleven international prizes, including ‘Best Human Document’ at Cannes Film Festival.

Ray did scripting, casting, scoring, cinematography, art direction, editing and designed his own credit titles and publicity material. He was a fiction writer, publisher, illustrator, graphic designer and film critic. He considered script-writing to be an integral part of direction which initially was the reason why he only made films in the Bengali language. He had designed four typefaces for roman script named Ray Roman, Ray Bizarre, Daphnis, and Holiday Script, apart from numerous Bengali once. Ray Roman and Ray Bizarre won an international competition in 1971.

Ray's international career started after the success of his next film, Aparajita (The Unvanquished) which was the sequel of his first film and won the Golden Lion in Venice. The last of the series Apur Sansar (The World of Apu) was made in 1959. In 1961, the Prime-Minister of India, Jawaharlal Nehru requested and commissioned Ray to make a documentary on Rabindranath Tagore, the legendary Indian poet on the occasion of the his birth centennial.

In 1964 Ray made Charulata (The Lonely Wife). Many critics regard this period of his life at the peak during which he made his most accomplished film. Based on Nastanirh, a short story written by Tagore, the film tells the tale of a lonely wife, Charu, in 19th century Bengal, and her growing feelings for her brother in law, Amal. This film is often referred to as Ray's Mozartian masterpiece, In the post Charulata period, Ray took on projects of increasing variety, ranging from fantasy to science fiction to detective films to historical drama In 1967, Ray wrote a script for a film to be called ‘The Alien’ based on his short story Bankubabur Bandhu ("Banku Babu's Friend") which he wrote in 1962 for Sandesh, the Ray family magazine. The Alien had Columbia Pictures as producer for this planned U.S.-India co-production, and Peter Sellers and Marlon Brando as the leading actors. However, Ray was surprised to find that the script he had written had already been copyrighted by Mike Wilson. Wilson had initially approached Ray as an acquaintance of a mutual friend, Arthur.C.Clarke, to represent him in Hollywood. Ray later stated that he never received a penny for the script. Ray became disillusioned and returned to India. When ‘E.T’ was released in 1982, Clarke and Ray saw similarities in the film to the script, further details revealed by Ray's biographer Andrew Robinson ( The Inner Eye, 1989). His script of The Alien was available throughout America in mimeographed copies. Spielberg denies this. Robin Wood and others have often described him as the best director of children. Depending on the talent or experience of the actor Ray's direction would vary from virtually nothing to using the actor as a puppet. According to actors working for Ray, his customary trust in the actors would occasionally be tempered by his ability to treat incompetence with total contempt.

Ray's work has been recognized as Humanistic and of deceptive simplicity with deep underlying complexity. The Japanese film maker Akira Kurosawa has said, "Not to have seen the cinema of Ray means existing in the world without seeing the sun or the moon." and defended him on his films being criticized as slow and praised his work as the ‘kind of cinema that flows with the serenity and nobility of a big river’. Some find his humanism simple-minded and his work anti-modern and claim that they lack new modes of expression or experimentation found in works of Ray's contemporaries like Jean-Luc Godard. As Stanley Kauffman wrote, some critics believe that Ray "assumes his viewers can be interested in a film that simply dwells in its characters, rather than one that imposes dramatic patterns on their lives."

He is regarded as one of the greatest auteur of 20th century cinema. Critics have often compared Ray to artists in the cinema and other media, such as Anton Chekhov, Renoir, De Sica, Howard Hawks or Mozart. Shakespeare has also been invoked for example by the writer V. S. Naipaul, who compared a scene in “Shatranj Ki Khiladi” to a Shakespearian play.

Beyond India, filmmakers such as Martin Scorsese, James Ivory, Abbas Kiarostami and Elia Kazan have been influenced by his cinematic style. Ira Sachs's 2005 work Forty Shades of Blue was a loose remake of Charulata, and in the 1995 film My Family, the final scene is duplicated from the final scene of Apur Sansar. Similar references to Ray films are found, for example, in recent works such as Sacred Evil, the Elements trilogy of Deepa Mehta and even in films of Jean-Luc Godard. The character Apu Nahasapeemapetilon in the American animated television series The Simpson was named in homage to Ray's popular character from The Apu Trilogy.

Many literary works include references to Ray or his work, including Saul Bellow's Herzog and J. M. Coetzee's Youth. Salman Rushdie's Haroun and the Sea of Stories contain fish characters named Goopy and Bagha, a tribute to Ray's fantasy film. In 1993, UC Santa Cruz established the Satyajit Ray Film and Study collection, and in 1995, the Government of India set up Satyajit Ray Film and Television Institute for studies related to film. In 2007, British Broadcasting Corporation declared that two of his ‘Feluda’ stories (detective) would be made into radio programs. During the London film festival, a regular "Satyajit Ray Award" is given to first-time feature director whose film best captures "the artistry, compassion and humanity of Ray's vision". Wes Anderson has claimed Ray as an influence on his work; his most recent film, The Darjeeling Limited, set in India, is dedicated to Ray. Satyajit Ray was awarded with 32 National Film Awards by the Government of India during his lifetime. He was the second film personality to be awarded honorary doctorates by Oxford University, after Charlie Chaplin. Ray was also awarded the ‘Legion of Honor’ by the President of France in 1987 and the Dadasaheb Phalke Award in 1985.

In the year 1992 The Government of India awarded him the highest civilian honor Bharat Ratna and The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences honored him with an Oscar for Lifetime Achievemnet in his sickbed and was as well awarded the Akira Kurosawa Award for Lifetime Achievement in Directing at the San Francisco International Film Festival.

By: Kasturi Mishra

Guerrilla Filmmaking – a Different Approach

2010-01-19T17:07:00.002-05:00

What is guerrilla filmmaking? It’s the ability to get your vision on the screen with the least amount of work, expense and hassle. By reducing all the extra time and baggage involved, you will have more energy to concentrate on the material you are shooting. As an added bonus your financial costs will be very low.

If you are a beginner, try this approach. It’s fast, safe and easy. If you have a bit more experience then you can try these guerrilla techniques as well. It may offer you a different path to getting your vision on to the screen. Here are a few guidelines that the guerrilla filmmaker should follow. By following this list you will eliminate unnecessary complications.

1) Keep shooting and shooting. The more you shoot the more you will learn. Whether it is 16mm or Super 8. Be willing to have results that don’t meet your expectations. Films should be like songs. Do not make one or two a year, make as many as you can and if you happen to be unhappy with the results then no problems move to the next project. Learn and grow as an artist.

2) Do not bring any extra gear besides the camera. Shoot exteriors, brightly lit interiors or near windows. This way you do not drag around heavy lights or spend hours setting them up. Film does need a lot of light but setting up lights can drain you of the creative energy you started with. A tripod is optional as well, but certainly not necessary.

3) Use only one or two actors and do not have a crew. The hardest, most complex part of a film is getting everyone available on a given day. People lead busy lives and the less people you have to schedule the better. Also if you aren’t carrying gear you will not need a crew. This is one less person to deal with on the set.

4) Plan to shoot things in a one day. This makes things much easier to film and coordinate. And you will have the satisfaction of getting everything done quickly. Nothing ruins enthusiasm faster for yourself than to have to shoot day after day after day.

5) Use unsynched - non copy written sound effects. Trying to have synched audio will add many grey hairs to your head. It is fairly complex to do and requires a lot of extra gear and usually an extra person on your crew. You can easily get free music and effects on the internet. Consider moviemaking as a visual medium and just throw a song in the background.

6) Do not get hung up or intimidated by technical details. Today music videos have prepared the audience to accept any kind of visual stimulation. The audience is willing to expect flaws. It’s your film, your art and you are creating your own dream world. If it makes you comfortable to set your focus once then put your light meter on automatic ( as with Super 8 cameras ) then do so. I bet you can shoot faster and get more interesting images if you leave certain elements to chance. There is beauty in randomness. Just because someone has always said your shots should be in focus and your lighting perfect doesn’t mean you have to follow their advice. Think outside of the box and remember all that matters is what works for you. Dare to be different.

7) Use in- camera effects. There is a lot you can do with a 16mm Bolex such as fades, double exposures, single frame, slo mo etc. Some Super 8 cameras have the same features. There is a certain raw, quality when doing this inside your camera that you cannot recreate when editing it in the computer.

8) My last guidelines is to not edit your film. Make the length of your film be one roll. Then project the footage straight from what you have shot. This may not sound appealing because a lot of people enjoy editing. By leaving editing out you will be forced to focus your creativity differently. Yes it is limiting but at the same time it is freeing because you will have to tell your story in a more interestingly original manner. Everyone edits their films and that alone should be enough reason for you to try something different. By shooting only one roll of film per finished movie, your total costs are now peanuts (about 50.00 for Super 8 – maybe 75-80 for 16mm – film stock and processing).

You may think, how can I create film with all these restrictions? You still have two most powerful tools a guerrilla filmmaker needs. These tools will put you at an equal level of any Hollywood director. Your first tool is your imagination and creativity. Because you are truly independent you have the potential to create a film where everything you know about plots, character, development and all aspects of reality are tossed aside. When you decide to break conventions, other levels of experience – where reality is more like dreams - are made possible. You can create a world where cliched plots are tossed aside and character motivation is illogical. The psychological effect of your film will go beyond what is projected on the screen and remain with the audience long afterwards. Take your own personal experiences, ironies and uncertainties and try to express those. The guerrilla restrictions will force you to create something unlike any other film.

Your second powerful tool is the montage or the order that you present your images to tell your story. The unique power of cinema is that you can put two shots, one after the other and the viewer will make an emotional connection between them. Charlie Chaplin took a shot of office workers walking to work through the subway and intercut with a shot of cattle being led through steel gates. The point was obvious. A famous experiment took a shot of an actor and cut it with a bowl of soup, a child and an old lady in a coffin. Everyone thought the actor was so talented because of his ability act hungry at the food, happiness at the child and sadness at the dead woman, even though it was all the same actors shot. Use the visual connection between shots to fuel your vision. Do not show someone being killed – it’s been done a million times. Show him being chased by a killer then follow with a shot of a gravestone. Same story except a more appealing presentation. Imagination and the sequence of shots are the only two tools that the guerrilla filmmaker needs to make visionary and innovative films. And thats more fascinating than any film with an enormous budget and huge crew.

So go out there, grab a camera, grab a roll of film and start shooting. Leave your wallet and your filmmaking textbooks at home. As well sign up for IFCO’s Dogme and Super 8 One Take Challenges. These are perfect screening opportunities for your guerrilla films.

And finally, if you don’t believe what I am saying then check out sample one take – non-edited films from the Straight 8 website. You will be in awe and inspired at what some guerrilla filmmakers are producing today.
Watch Super 8 Films here
By: Deniz Berkin

INDIE Chair

2010-01-19T16:53:00.004-05:00

IFCO's TECHNICAL DIRECTOR INTERVIEWS FILMMAKER JOHN PRICE

Roger Wilson: Where did your interest in filmmaking develop from? Did your parents make films or shoot home movies while you were growing up?

John Price: I think my main influence while growing up is with my parents, where my mother, whose been a painter all her life and my father, whose been an engineer, a scientist all his life. Combining art with technology, film is the perfect medium... My father had given me a cheap little plastic still camera when I was about thirteen years old and that was my first introduction to photography and he bought me a little darkroom starter kit as well. Although he wasn't into that sort of stuff and he didn't have any idea that I would be interested in it he just sort of took a shot in to the dark and gave me the stuff and it started me on my way.

RW: When did you start to work with motion picture film?

JP: I did a lot of still photography in high school so I decided to go to Ryerson which had a still photography department but by the time I had gotten to Ryerson I had discovered film. I made my first film in 1968 on Super 8.

RW: Why do you make films?

JP: I guess as a form of expression. I had decided when I was doing still photography that I wanted to express myself. Once again inspired by my mother's paintings I wanted to do some sort of art form. Filmmaking just seem to be so much more fun and exciting then still photography. I would say that most of the things I choose to do, the main driving force is to have fun with my life. That is one reason why I have chosen Super 8 to keep things simple, if you keep things simple you have more fun.

RW: What was your first film about?

JP: Well I had gotten the inspiration from this National Film Board short, I think it was called Toys. It was a film against war toys, I remember it had plastic toy soldiers burning in it. My film was another anti war toy film. I got a friend of mine and a bunch of kids in the near by vacant lot and I wrote a little narrative script. It was about these children using their toy guns to hunt down this real adult soldier in the desert and they end up killing him with these toy guns. It was basically a statement against toy guns. The film was called Sandbox.

RW: Why do you use Super 8 film?

JP: Well Super 8 is cheaper, that's the main reason, you can make more films and make them more quickly and easier if they don't cost as much. Super 8 allows you to be more personal, your able to express yourself more like and artist, more like a painter or a writer who use very inexpensive tools to produce their work. I also like Super 8 because of the political issue, I find larger formats to be decalent, they're reflective of the whole capitalistic materialistic society, you know bigger is better. So early on at Ryerson I decided that smaller is better that Super 8 is better then 16mm and 35mm. I also recognized that nobody else thought that, no one took Super 8 seriously and that's still the case. Super 8 is sort of the underdog of film formats and thats one thing I love about it, I love a good fight and I have been fighting that fight ever since 1968 and I am still fighting it today at the Canadian Filmmakers Distribution Center which won't distribute Super 8. It's a huge political issue.

RW: What is your favorite Super 8 film stock?

JP: It changes over the years as stocks disappear and others get introduced or re-introduced or if I am shooting a different way which requires different stocks. Of course though kodachrome was clearly a much better stock then ektachrome. The kodachrome colours are more richer and more archival, kodachrome films shot in the thirties still look brand new today, they last a lot longer. Right now though I'm getting more interested in B&W, one reason is because I don't like the new Ektachrome but also because I have been long interested in hand processing. I have done a little bit and have even taught it some. B&W is the easiest and cheapest way to hand process and again hand processing reduces your budgeting more and that's another reason I like it. I am always looking for the cheapest way to make a film and hand processing B&W is the ultimate.

RW: How many films have you made?

JP: 300

RW: Is there a genre of films or a style of filmmaking you enjoy more?

JP: I prefer silent films and abstract films mainly because they are so rare. And so few people are use to seeing any silent films or abstract films, even though they are among the oldest genres of film they're still quite shocking to a lot of people in some ways. Its really a challenge to the audience to watch silent or abstract films and that's what I like about them.

RW: Where do you draw your inspiration from when developing a new film idea?

JP: Generally just watching and observing the world. That starts right back when I was a still photographer, to be a good photographer or cinematographer you have to train yourself to see things that other people don't see, look around you and see a frame around things and spot details that other people would not think is interesting at all. Even watching television can be inspiring because your watching the world. I think the most inspiring situation for me is sitting in the window seat of a restaurant or cafe or even better a moving vehicle where you can just sit and watch the moving images going by. I don't necessary get an idea from landscapes going by but things are just happening in front of me and it gets my brain percolating.

Visit John Price's Website

IFCO Member's Profile

2010-01-18T15:50:00.005-05:00

Name: Deniz Berkin
Films: see www.awakeatdawn.com

1. Why make films? When did you realize wanted to make films?
I started making films when I was 14. I’ve always wanted to make films. I like to tell stories and nobody listens to me when I talk so I force them to sit in a dark room and I show them my stories. If they try to leave before the film is over, I may have to tie them to the chair.

2. What's your process of creation? Who's involved with it?
I am the only one involved with it. That way I don’t have to compromise. In every other aspect of life we have to compromise - work / relationships etc but when I make a movie, I like to live and learn with my own mistakes. And I make a lot of mistakes, that’s for sure. I’m not sure if I learn from them though.

3. When making films, do you think to adopt a certain style or common theme?

A lot of my films are about romance, although they may be sci-fi or drama or experimental or whatever there is usually some kind of a romance going on in the background. Don’t ask me why.

4. Where to do you look for inspiration?
I find inspiration from those who have risked it all on something then failed. We always hear about the artist or business man who took some huge chance then ended up reaping the rewards but the underbelly is those that risk and lose it all miserably and keep trying and trying.

5. What are the advantages/disadvantages of being a filmmaker in Ottawa?

Advantages:

Ottawa has IFCO, which is a great organization.

Disadvantages:
Ottawa is still a small town and I wish there were more people shooting film and a bigger film community.

6. What ultimately determines a good film in your opinion?

I love all sorts of independent short films. I have seen some by IFCO members that are really amazing and inspirational. I like foreign and independent feature films as well but sometimes they’re too depressing.

I like Hollywood films too. Although sometimes their sole purpose is to make money, it can be entertaining too. My favorite of that type is Scarface.

7. What is your personal mission statement?

Just chill out baby.

IFCO Member's Profile

2010-01-18T12:40:00.008-05:00

Name: (Sarah) Bridget Farr
Membership: Since 1995!

Films: I'm currently shooting #10.

1. Why make films? When did you realize wanted to make films?

Good question.

2. What's your process of creation? Who's involved with it?

I use a lot of paper. Writing, storyboarding, list-making...and no one person has been involved in every one of my films. I tend to get help from whoever is around.

3. When making films, do you think to adopt a certain style or common theme?

Not intentionally. Artists get influenced by work that they like and I prefer simple, quiet films. So, that is the treatment I normally give my shorts.

4. Where to do you look for inspiration?

I just keep my eyes open and inspiration comes. Other filmmakers are a big source for sure.

5. What are the advantages/disadvantages of being a filmmaker in Ottawa?

Advantages:

It is fairly easy to secure locations and people are very willing to help out. And funding as there is less competition compared to nearby big cities.

Disadvantages:

With the kind of films I have made I don't feel there are any disadvantages.

6. What ultimately determines a good film in your opinion?

A film that respects the audience.

7. What is your personal mission statement?

To create and connect.

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

2010-01-18T12:19:00.003-05:00

Every time I show my movie THEY COME AT NIGHT (2007), the most common question that arises is: “how did you shoot that scene where she falls down the rabbit hole?”

The answer is very simple; it’s not a real rabbit hole.

No, seriously, there is a trick.

While we were working on the shoot for TCAN, an American horror movie came out entitled PULSE. On the poster, a woman was tangled in a web of arms coming out from underneath her. I was afraid people would think that the idea/influence for my film was from that movie.

The influence actually came from an old Roman Polanski movie entitled REPULSION. This movie came out in 1965 and starred Catherine Deneuve in her first major role. In the climatic scene, the young actress could see hands coming out of the walls around her to attack and grope her. It was one of those classic terrifying moments from the 60’s.

TCAN was shot in black and white for esthetic reasons. I wanted to create a distinct contrast for the dark scenes, which I wanted more shadowy and sinister. Petr Maur did the cinematography for the first part of the film - the bedroom part - while Paul Crivellari shot the warehouse scene.

TCAN opens with Anna-Alexandra Sharrett sitting on her bed. She knows she’ll have nightmares and resents going to sleep. Ounce she laid down, we moved the mattress from the bedroom to the living room floor and installed the camera in a 90-degree angle over her head. This allowed us more work space and more height for the tripod. When the nightmare starts, we changed all the bed sheets with large panels of black fabrics to create the desired contrast effect: Anna-A, dressed in white, surrounded with darkness. I had Cathy Symonds, Ryan Browne, and Petr Maur dress in black from head to toes (including gloves and head masks). They wrapped themselves in the black fabric and started grabbing and groping Anna-A while she struggled.

Petr then grabbed on to Anna-A’s legs and pulled her out of the bed while the two others rolled on to her. The black and white paid off very well in this part of the film.

Down the rabbit hole she went.

When people watch this part of TCAN, they are under the impression that Anna-A is falling down the hole while in reality, she is sideways and not moving. I had the actress lying on the mattress, then Cathy and Ryan (still dressed in black) holding on to her. We covered the set with 5 meters of black fabric and installed the camera sideways on the floor just at the head of the mattress. Petr stood on top of the set and slowly waved the blanket while I shot the scene from under the blanket. We shot a few feet of film, then moved the camera a few feet away, shot again, then moved away again, thus creating the illusion that Anna-A is falling inside a hole while in reality, she is lying still.

I intercut this scene with shots I took in my backyard one night. I filmed as I walked through dead leaves with a flashlight. It added to the creepy effect and helped to the illusion.

The second part of the movie was shot in the same warehouse that was used in SINNER (2005). Anna-A appears there confused and scared. I shot her from the top of a 5 meter ladder with a 10mm lens on a Bolex to create the illusion of a large empty room.

In this scene, Cathy Symonds plays the ghost. She’s wearing (believe it or not) my wife’s prom dress from 1977, black gloves to her shoulders, a piece of black fabric to hide her face, and a transparent piece of fabric to cover her head. The light was set right behind her and I asked her to walk in a straight line towards the camera. On her first attempt, she couldn’t see where she was going and ended up walking sideways. I had to pierce a hole in the black cloth to allow her to see the camera.

In the editing process, using Final Cut Pro, I dropped the brightness of the scene to hide the surroundings and make the room even darker. Because the light was right behind Cathy, she stuck out despite the darkness. I then overlapped and delayed bits and pieces of the scene to create the ghostly effect.

In the final edit, Paul Charbonneau’s music added a lot of momentum to the movie. Two days of shooting, several hours of editing, excellent work from the crew and actors ended up with a simple yet effective product. THEY COME AT NIGHT premiered at the 2007 IFCO winter Gala.

CREDITS: Anna-Alexandra Sharrett, Cathy Symonds, Ryan Browne, Petr Maur

Cinematography: Petr Maur, Paul Crivellari

Music: Paul Charbonneau

Assistant: Elizabeth Duncan

Written, directed, and produced by Daniel Cardinal

DEFENDING MICHAEL BAY

2009-11-11T16:02:00.012-05:00

There are few directors working today who get more vitriolic prose spewed at them than Michael Bay. Whether in print or on internet forums, vocal film fans simply love to unleash a torrent of hate towards his movies, often in long-winded digressions which reveal more about the writer of the critique than of Bay’s work as a director. And I always wonder where this hate is coming from. People often point to him as the destroyer of cinema but why? Movies speak to a diverse and wide range of viewers. There are those in the audience who look for subtlety and emotion in film while others simply want to be entertained. Michael Bay movies have never been subtle or emotional, but they sure are entertaining.

It is impossible to argue that Michael Bay lacks vision because there is a clear cinematic consistency from his first film, Bad Boys, to his most recent effort, Transformers. His style is visually assaultive, bombastic and unrelenting. While he has received a substantial amount of criticism for his flashy visuals and fast cuts, this is simply his style which is more appropriate for his target demographic. You either enjoy it or you don’t. And it is clear that he has no desire to change it as it has remained consistent throughout his films. Bay is smart enough to understand that his primary audience is comprised of young men and teenage boys. So he packs his movies with what entertains them: guns, fast cars, beautiful women and action sequences. This often results in his characters lacking dimensionality but that is only because he chooses not to focus on these elements. Bay is an extremely visual director and he makes movies for an audience that enjoys visuals; his films always have beautifully commercial rather than artistic cinematography which can be credited to his commercial and music video background. This focus on visual elements feeds into his strengths at choreographing action and visual effects, both of which are featured prominently in all of his films. He has no shame in attempting to give his target audience what he believes they want to see at the movies and I congratulate him for it because it demonstrates a certain cinematic selflessness on his part. And due to his success, it is clear that there is an audience around the world that enjoys his work.

Michael Bay movies are the definition of tent-pole popcorn cinema. They are events that assault the visual and auditory senses as he tries to entertain you through action and visual effects. Some people see this as shallow. But if you don’t like it, then watch something else. Just because his talent does not appeal to your senses does not discredit his ability to make cinematic entertainment for other viewers. Whether you like it or not, Bay has earned his place as a filmmaker and while there is a very vocal minority who hates everything he does, there is a large majority, of which I am a member, who proudly enjoys the simple pleasures that his movies offer.

By: Baldwin Tong

Camera Shy

2009-09-25T12:10:00.009-04:00

IN PRAISE OF PROTOOLS

In film, picture and sound each contribute equally to the experience, and yet many indie filmmakers allocate far less attention and resources to sound. Often, they limit their sound efforts to whatever can be accomplished with the picture edit, be it flatbed, Final Cut, or Avid. This is a shame, since those are not the right tools for the job. With the right amount of skill and experience, they can give - at best- reasonable results. They do not allow really great sound. I have met many indie filmmakers who do not shy from spending upwards of two thousand dollars on film stock and processing alone, and yet will budget nothing for audio post production. This does not make any sense.

Editing sound on a picture editing system is like walking down the street with concrete shoes. Luckily IFCOites don’t need to do that: they have access to the industry standard tool for post audio, namely Pro Tools. Pro Tools lets you slice and dice your audio in virtually any way you can think of, and yet it is intuitive and easy to use. Its logical layout allows for speed and accuracy, so you can concentrate on the creative process of using sound to tell your story. With Pro Tools, instead of walking down the street with concrete shoes, you’re rocketing down the street on a sonic skateboard making sound moves like Tony Alva!

One of the great aspects of Pro Tools is its compatibility. Take your Pro Tools session to virtually any studio in the world and they will be able to open it and continue working on it where you left off. For instance, I use Pro Tools version 7.3 on a Mac at work, Pro Tools version 7.4 on a PC at home and version 5 on a Mac at IFCO. With a bit of planning, I can flip sessions back and forth with no effort. Furthermore, you can export an OMF file from Final Cut or Avid and Pro Tools will open it with all your edits and volume information intact.

Here's some things you should definitely try in Pro Tools:

Record a voice over into Pro Tools using the recording booth in the sound studio.

Record props for your SFX tracks in the booth.

Re-record you dialogue and edit it to match your production tracks.

Import an OMF file from Final Cut Pro and edit your dialogue film style.

Record a voice and “futz” with it making it sound like it’s on the radio or coming from a PA.

Less than professional sound will only degrade the cinematic experience of your film. You owe it to yourself to become familiar with Pro Tools. See you at the sonic skate park!

By: Ray Gould