Take A News Break Day

As many of you readers know, I was teaching at Virginia Tech on April 16 last year. The devastation we all felt losing people dear to us was deeply exacerbated by an invasion of a press corps whose satellite vehicles alone filled a football stadium parking lot. To say that these folks were insensitive would be an understatement. I never had any respect for the kind of journalism, especially TV journalism, that chases ambulances. But even my cynicism did not prepare me for what I saw those days. So, in light of the Northern Illinois University shootings, I will be taking a news break today. I encourage you to consider doing the same. The NIU shootings will, no doubt, be the top headline on most news networks and websites and every click or minute spent watching gives more encouragement to these (mostly) commercial enterprises to exploit others' pain for profit. My thoughts will be with the NIU community for today and for the days to come. But I'm not going to kid myself that viewing news reports on CNN or MTV is going to help these folks heal. But I'll stop, because I've written about "pornography of the real" before.

If you must read about the shootings, I encourage you to visit Northern Illinois University's website, or to read the Dekalb Daily-Chronicle. In my experience last year the news sources that were most valuable were the Virginia Tech website and our local newspaper, the Roanoke Times, whose coverage was sensitive, even-handed, and comprehensive. Their coverage only (re)confirmed for me that when it comes to telling stories, place -- where you come from, where you live, the people you call neighbors -- matters.

MacHeist: Indy Mac Software + Good Cause = Insane Deal

If you use a Mac, you absolutely must check out the insane deal that MacHeist -- an alliance of independent Mac software developers -- is offering. For $49.95, MacHeist is selling $428 worth of fully-featured (i.e., not demo mode) Mac software. And to make the offer that much sweeter, a good chunk of the proceeds go to charity. As of this writing, $227,000+ has been raised so far.

Plus, the software is good. I would recommend all three of the twelve titles that I've previously used:

SnapzProX - a screencapture utility that's GREAT for creating screencasts iStopMotion - a great program for shooting stop motion animation 1Password - a browser extension that saves all your passwords in one place, and generates secure passwords

I'm an especially big fan of SnapzProX. Last fall I used it (in demo mode) to create a screencast for some of my students. I found it to be the best application of its kind on the Mac. It normally sells for $69, but for the next four days people can get it, plus 11 other applications, for $20 less. And it goes to charity. So I'm getting out my credit card now.

As for the charities represented, according to the MacHeist wiki:

Purchasers can choose from the following list of ten charities, or opt to split the donation from their purchase evenly among the choices.

* Action Against Hunger * AIDS Research Alliance * Alliance for Climate Protection * Direct Relief International * Humane Society International * The Nature Conservancy * Save the Children * Save Darfur * Prevent Cancer Foundation * World Wildlife Fund

Filmmaking and the Environment

As you probably heard yesterday, the Nobel Peace Prize was awarded to UN Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change and Al Gore. I've not always been a big supporter of Al's, but I was definitely feeling some pride for the local boy done good (the second native Tennesseean to be awarded the Peace Prize, actually.).

Though the press reports usually got it wrong, as AJ Schnack reminded everyone yesterday, Gore did not win an Oscar for An Inconvenient Truth (because he didn't direct it), but I have little doubt that the film -- because of how it drew attention to the cause of global warming, and because it drew attention to Gore's advocacy in the process -- was a factor in Gore sharing this year's Peace Prize. Looking over the list of previous Peace Prize winners, I couldn't think of another instance in which cinema played such a central role in the awardee's recognition.

Anyway, in the spirit of the announcement, I thought I would share some links and notes on environmentally-friendly filmmaking for those folks out there that, whether or not they like Al Gore, accept the findings of hundreds and hundreds of scientists from around the world that shared the Peace Prize for their work on man-made climate change research...

First, you might check out the Environmental Media Association's website, particularly their EMA Green Production Checklist (PDF download on the linked page). Most of their tips are basic "reduce, reuse, recycle" guidelines within a filmmaking context, but they're worth a look.

On a related note, in my searching online for other green filmmaking resources, I came across New Mexico's "Green Production Best Practices", which were outlined by Gov. (and Presidential candidate) Bill Richardson. No surprises here - this is a very similar list to the EMA guidelines above -- but it does have New Mexico-related resources to help you "go green." It would be great if all the other state film offices would draw up similar resource pages. If you agree, contact your local film office and make the suggestion. Or go a step further -- do the research yourself and provide it to them!

If you consider yourself deeply committed to these principles, you might want to track down a copy of Larry Fessenden's Low Impact Filmmaking. The book was originally published in 1992, so some of the information is dated. Still, this is the most extensive green-guide to filmmaking I've ever seen, and it's written with a true spirit of self-reliance. I only wish Fessenden would make it available as a PDF -- that would help disseminate the book more widely AND it'd be that much more environmentally friendly.

Finally, one of the most -- if not THE most -- significant things we filmmakers can do to help (or at least not hurt) the environment is to "work small." As I looked over the EMA Production Checklist I couldn't help but think about how the EMA's and the New Mexico film office's guidelines are geared toward Hollywood productions that feature hundreds of crew and dozens of vehicles and trailers. Without even considering the extensive things that happen in front of the camera on some of these sets (stunt car chases, explosions, etc), the fact remains that Hollywood filmmaking practices leave a big environmental footprint, no matter how much re-using and recycling they do. "Reduce" is the first step -- and it's one that the producers of so-called "Major Motion Pictures" would do well to remember.

Indeed, some of the most basic elements of low-budget, DIY regional filmmaking -- working with a small crew, shooting films in your own city with local crew, and using a modest amount of equipment (lights and vehicles, especially) -- also happen to be great practices for environmentally-sound filmmaking. Most filmmakers that "work small" (including a lot of people reading this right now) may not do so out of a commitment to the environment, but you know what? That doesn't diminish the effect. We can all do more, but working small is a big first step.

The 25 Greatest Documentaries of All-Time?

IndieWire reports today on the International Documentary Association's list of the "25 Best Documentaries." As an introduction to the genre for people who have never seen more than one or two non-fiction films (including, say, March of the Penguins) it's a serviceable list. On the other hand, it will probably upset a lot of people, if the comments after the IndieWire article are any indication. It's not worth getting too worked up over these things. Like those AFI best-of lists, they're not so much a serious study as a marketing tool for the sponsoring organization. Still, I was pretty surprised (and a little sad) to see just how historically short-sighted and Americentric this list is, particularly coming from a group that is comprised of filmmakers and bills itself as an international association.

Almost all the films on the list are American, English-language films. As for representation throughout the decades, the last seven years are represented by ten movies; the '80s and '90s are represented by seven more. The other eighty years of cinema are represented by a mere eight films.

I can put aside the fact that lesser-known, esoteric personal favorites (like, say, Ichikawa's Tokyo Olympiad, Godmilow/Farocki's What Farocki Taught/Inextinguishable Fire, Jorge Furtado's Ilha das Flores, or Wiseman's High School) didn't make the cut. But a list claiming to represent the "Greatest Documentaries of All Time" that doesn't feature a single film by Robert Flaherty, Dziga Vertov, Jean Rouch, Michael Apted, Chris Marker, Agnes Varda, much less Claude Lanzmann's Shoah ? Well, it's curious, to say the least.

Ok, I said I wasn't going to get worked up. So I'll stop.

Here's the list. Continue the debate in the comments, if you want....

1. "Hoop Dreams," directed by Steve James, Peter Gilbert and Frederick Marx 2. "The Thin Blue Line," directed by Errol Morris 3. "Bowling for Columbine," directed by Michael Moore 4. "Spellbound," directed by Jeffery Blitz 5. "Harlan County USA," directed by Barbara Kopple 6. "An Inconvenient Truth," directed by Davis Guggenheim 7. "Crumb," directed by Terry Zwigoff 8. "Gimme Shelter," directed by Albert and David Maysles and Charlotte Zwerin 9. "The Fog of War," directed by Errol Morris 10. "Roger and Me," directed by Michael Moore 11. "Super Size Me," directed by Morgan Spurlock 12. "Don't Look Back," directed by DA Pennebaker 13. "Salesman," directed by Albert and David Maysles 14. "Koyaanisqatsi: Life Out of Balance," directed by Godfrey Reggio 15. "Sherman's March," directed by Ross McElwee 16. "Grey Gardens," directed by Albert and David Maysles, Ellen Hovde and Muffie Meyer 17. "Capturing the Friedmans," directed by Andrew Jarecki 18. "Born into Brothels," directed by Ross Kauffman and Zana Briski 19. "Titticut Follies," directed by Frederick Wiseman 20. "Buena Vista Social Club," directed by Wim Wenders 21. "Fahrenheit 9/11," directed by Michael Moore 22. "Winged Migration," directed by Jacques Perrin 23. "Grizzly Man," directed by Werner Herzog 24. "Night and Fog," directed by Alain Resnais 25. "Woodstock," directed by Michael Wadleigh

Caffeine, Sequels, and Remakes...

When I realized that caffeine could be attributed to at least a few of the several headaches I get on a monthly basis, I gave it up. I've been off caffeine for over 15 years now. In addition to it helping with the headaches, I learned early on in the process how good it felt to just deny something to yourself. To echo one of the legends of self-reliance, denial helps one live deliberately. It's been so long since I had a caffeinated beverage that I take it for granted now, but I was thinking about it today when reading Matthew Jeppsen's post at FresHDV in which he quotes a recent interview with Ridley Scott.

Scott says:

I think movies are getting dumber, actually. Where it used to be 50/50, now it's 3% good, 97% stupid. [The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford] is one of those rarities that does get made, thank God, and has serious characterisation and serious things to say. Altogether it's a wonderful, dramatic and historic piece. But it's becoming more and more difficult to get films like this made.

I've sometimes found Ridley Scott's work to be an example of (admittedly great) style over substance, but am I ever in agreement here.

In an effort to quantify the dumbness, what follows is a list of the top 20 grossing movies of 2007 to-date, in order. Films in bold are not sequels or based on previously existing franchises (i.e., a comic book or television series).

Spider-Man 3 - sequel (#3) / comic book franchise Shrek the Third - sequel (#3) Transformers - based on TV show Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End - sequel (#3) Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix - sequel / book franchise The Bourne Ultimatum - sequel (#3) / based on book franchise 300 Ratatouille The Simpsons Movie - based on 17 year-old TV series Wild Hogs Knocked Up Live Free or Die Hard - sequel (#4) Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer - sequel (#2) / based on comic book franchise Rush Hour 3 - sequel (#3) Blades of Glory I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry Ocean's Thirteen - second sequel to a remake Ghost Rider - debatable: based on comic book franchise.... Hairspray - based on broadway show, which was based on movie Superbad

Out of 20 films, seven or eight are "original", if you can call Wild Hogs and Blades of Glory "original." [Addendum: Adaptations of non-franchise literature, etc. count as original works. See discussion in comments below.]

If that doesn't get you down, look at the all-time top grossing movies in the USA, where you'll see that 13 of the 20 were released in the last seven years. Of those 13, two (The Passion of the Christ and Finding Nemo) aren't sequels, remakes, or based on pre-existing franchises.

Shutting myself in a dark room isn't going to make the headache that is this list of movies go away, but I am going to give up watching any new sequels and remakes. Even if some of these movies are ok, I'm sick of the practice in general principle. Why encourage Hollywood to do it any longer? Like caffeine, I'm going cold turkey, giving this stuff up in toto.

Sure, I might miss something like Cronenberg's The Fly or Sirk's Imitation of Life (two of my favorite remakes), but something tells me the withdrawal period will last shorter than when I gave up caffeine.

UPDATE 9/23/07: Alert reader AJ Broadbent has sent word of even more dissenting opinions. Click here for the full story!!

The Bible, Revised

In some fields, there's that one book which, without it, your collection would be hopelessly incomplete. In my opinion, every kitchen needs a copy of The Joy of Cooking, a library's not a library if it doesn't have the Oxford English Dictionary, and filmmakers... well, I would argue that all of us need a copy of The Filmmaker's Handbook by Steven Ascher and Edward Pincus. At least that was true a few years ago. First released in 1984, The Filmmaker's Handbook was one of the first, and best, books to cover almost all technical aspects of the filmmaking process. Its presentation of technical concepts was accessible to beginners; its depth of detail meant experienced filmmakers could return to it again and again, always sure to learn new things.

For years, the Handbook didn't need an update. Film technology had gone largely unchanged for decades. An f-stop's an f-stop, right? Then, in 1999, the Handbook was updated to include developments in digital video. A necessary nod to the present, no doubt, but also an invitation to obsolescence.

The 2nd edition was first published in March 1999 -- one month before the unveiling of Final Cut Pro 1.0. Things have changed. Radically. Needless to say, the Handbook's been long overdue for another update.

So when I say that the new edition of The Filmmaker's Handbook was released yesterday, well, if you're sentimental about books like I am, maybe you'll agree that this is a cause for celebration.

In many ways, though, it's a bittersweet celebration. At this point, I don't expect The Filmmaker's Handbook to present any especially new information, exactly. The internet keeps me up-to-date on this stuff far better than any book can now. And, like so much of the technology it will no doubt discuss, I suspect that much of the information found in this 3rd Edition will be out of date within a year or two. If not sooner.

Yet, even when discussing evolving technologies, books have their place. Books demand (or at least request) more attention than digitally-presented information does. That's a good thing, especially when you're trying to learn something. You can also carry a book to a remote location where you might never have the internet access that would allow you to google for a solution that might crop up on set. But most importantly, a book lets you dog ear its corners, mark up key passages, and write in the margins. At least, that's what I plan to do with my new edition as soon as it arrives on my doorstep.

And besides, a lot of what this new 3rd edition of The Filmmaker's Handbook will have to say has never gone out of style and won't for a long, long time. After all, an f-stop's still an f-stop.

No Budget Film School

Back in January, I participated in a conversation on DIY filmmaking with Workbook Project founder Lance Weiler (Head Trauma) and Mark Stolaroff (producer and founder of the No Budget Film School). I enjoyed the discussion and certainly learned a few things myself. Mark recently notified me that his No Budget Film School is holding a two-day immersion workshop entitled, "The Art & Science of No-Budget Filmmaking" in Los Angeles next weekend (8/25 & 8/26), so I thought I'd pass the word along.

I haven't attended one of these workshops myself, so I can't directly endorse it. I will say, though, that the list of confirmed Guest Speakers -- which includes Peter Broderick (President, Paradigm Consulting; former President, Next Wave Films), Craig Zobel (Director, Great World Of Sound - 2007 Sundance), and Ti West (Director, The Roost; Trigger Man) looks promising.

And it's not terribly expensive as far as these things go. The two-day workshop is $275 in advance; $200 if you're a college student with ID. When you consider that all paid attendees of the workshop receive Axium Scheduling and Axium Budgeting software for free (reportedly a $400 value) it might end up being a pretty good bargain.

If you're in L.A. and you're debating whether or not to go, you might give that conference between Lance, Mark, and me a listen. If you like what Mark has to say, check out the workshop.

Hooray for Nollywood!

Intrepid reader Ben Hartman alerted me to a fine, if all too short, article in Wired about the third largest film industry in the world. Where is that, you ask? Nigeria. The article is really a tease -- and an effective one at that -- for two recent US-produced documentaries, Welcome to Nollywood and This is Nollywood.

Until I can get my hands on those documentaries, and some actual Nollywood movies, here are some articles that I enjoyed reading today as I educated myself about the Nigerian film industry.

Cinema of Nigeria page on Wikipedia.

Welcome to Nollywood. An extensive article from The Guardian.

Nollywood drought at Fespaco. BBC article discusses allegations of snoobery at Africa's most prestigious film festival towards Nollywood pix.

Step Aside, L.A. and Bombay, for Nollywood. NYT article from 2002(!).

The Nollywood Phenomenom. Article found on the World Intellectual Property Association website (WIPO's website tells me that it is a "specialized agency of the United Nations").

Open Thread: Superstitions

I'm back from Knoxville, where I just spent the last month prepping and then shooting a new project. I'm way too close to things to say much about it -- what it is, how it went, and so on -- right now. As it gets closer to completion I will talk more about it, no doubt. Aside from not having any distance on the thing, the fact is that I'm just generally reluctant to talk about works-in-progress. This probably seems like an odd trait for a "film blogger" to have. If so, hey, guilty as charged. That fact remains that the only thing I like less than talking about a film I've just shot (but not edited) is a film I'm in the process of writing. I don't have a problem talking about the project with collaborators -- that would be counter-productive (and very frustrating for others, I'm sure). Mainly, it's just a reluctance for me to attempt to define a creative project for others before it has defined itself to me.

The reluctance is also based in superstition. It seems like every time I say something semi-definitively about a film I'm making (especially during production) I'm eating my words within minutes. (A recent example: "I'm glad we've now decided which camera we're renting and we can move onto other things!")

On the flip side, I have certain rituals that I need to do before writing a project. And there are lucky objects: a brand of pens, old t-shirts, baseball caps.

I know I'm not alone. A lot of artists (filmmakers, writers, choreographers, etc.) that I've known are superstitious people -- practically as superstitious as baseball players. The cinematographer of a couple of films I made always wore the same t-shirt on the first day of filming. It was a promotional film from a successfuly 90s indie comedy (which shall remain nameless). He loathed the film, actually, but he wore the t-shirt because he figured it would remind him that no matter what, we could make something better.

But enough about me. What about you? Drop a comment if you have superstitions when writing, prepping, filming, or finishing a project -- or if you know a good story about someone that does.

We Now Resume Our Regularly Scheduled Programming

This is, I think, the longest delay between posts at Self-Reliant Film. Between the events at Virgina Tech and the preparation for a project of mine, well, what can I say? My attention has been elsewhere. Anyway, it's good to get back to the blog. Thanks, again, to all of you that privately emailed or publicly commented with words of support. On an unrelated(?) note, I just remembered that today marks the 15th anniversary of the "premiere" of my first film, a film called "Pure", which I made with a Super-8 film camera graciously loaned by Chris Cagle. The film screened for about twenty people in the living room of my friend Wade Guyton, who lived in the house next door to Chris.

I remember that the evening ended with various people singing along to the Xanadu soundtrack. Yesterday, my friend Alan sent me a link to this. Plus ça change, plus c'est la méme chose.

Last Word on the Subject

Last night, I was disgusted that the various media outlets were giving airtime, ink, and webspace to the videotape and writings of the person behind the massacre here at Virginia Tech. Amidst the images I saw on the New York Times website, one that stuck out as odd -- an image of the young man brandishing a hammer. To me, the image called to mind a still from a movie -- at first, I thought, something from a Gasper Noe film. Then, later, I remembered it was the revenge movie, OldBoy.

For others, the image might have suggested something else, but I am a filmmaker and I suppose I am inclined to make comparisons between images of cinematic texts, if one can use such coolly academic terminology for a killer's self-taped imagery. Both images feature people looking into a camera's eye brandishing a hammer and, importantly for me, both images are "revenge texts." The fact that both images are of Asian males was largely inconsequential to me; if either person had been of a difference race, nationality, etc. I would have, I feel, made the same connection. As I said, at first I thought the image came from a French film.

Certainly, I thought, some readers and viewers would be perplexed by such an image, and I wanted to suggest a possible reference. Mainly, though, I wanted to use this opportunity of having the Times' attention to tell them how I would prefer that they did not show such images in the first place. This message was included in my email to them though, perhaps not surprisingly, they chose not to acknowledge that comment. I believe that giving airtime to a killer's ramblings does a disservice to those of us here in Blacksburg who are deeply, actively grieving; I also believe that it likely gives the killer the attention he so desperately desired. For me, sharing these images publicly goes beyond pornography.

How misguided and naive can a person be, particularly in light of the comments in my last post? I should have said nothing, done nothing, and ignored it all. I made the mistake of attempting to make sense of the nonsensical, assuming that my comment could be a simple footnote to a single still image, and above all, presuming that a person can have any control over any comment he feeds to the Media Machine.

This morning I awoke to several emails and blog comments accusing me of everything from racism against South Koreans to blaming cinema for the carnage on Monday. And all day I have been courted by several major media outlets salivating for an interview with me, as if I could somehow explain the events of Monday to them by way of a movie. How sad. How absurd. The answer to all of these individuals has been "No."

Let me be clear: My comparison of these two images was not meant to suggest in ANY way that movies, any movie, "made him do it." Likewise, my comparison of these two images is IN NO WAY an attempt to make ANY generalizations based on racial, nationalistic, or any other sorts of lines.

The fact that the comparison of these two images has been co-opted in various ways is extraordinarily painful to me, particularly the accusations of racism. Anyone who knows me knows that this truly, truly breaks my heart. As if it weren't already broken.

To everyone outside of Blacksburg, the events of the past few days are a circus, an opportunity to use others' tragedy for their own ends. It is not a circus for me. There is only the event, the profound sadness of its aftermath, and the utter confusion about what has happened.

I am mourning the loss of my colleagues, friends, family, and students. Here in Blacksburg we are all grieving. Deeply. The headline writers for many news outlets have determined that today "The Healing Begins." It has not.

If what was intended to be my tiny footnote on a minor point has stirred up passions in you, I truly regret that. If you have taken my comment to be implicitly or explicitly racist, I hope you can believe me when I write with utter sincerity that this was never the intention.

And if you are with the media, do not bother contacting me. I have learned my lesson.

Finally, to reiterate: My point in all of this, however misguided the effort, was to initiate a conversation about what Jill Godmilow calls "the pornography of the real" -- in this case, news outlets using a mass murderer's fantasies as sick spectacle and -- let us never forget -- as a source of revenue.

SXSW: The Whole Shootin' Match, indeed

After a hellish 13 hour trip from Austin to Knoxville (don't get me started about the airline industry) I'm in Knoxville scouting locations for a film. Before I get completely absorbed with that work, here are some final notes on my last day or so at SXSW. Tuesday was my panel, Blogging about Film. Alison did a nice job moderating the conversation, and I really enjoyed sharing the microphone with Joel, Agnes, Mark, and Lance. All had very smart things to say, and we had different perspectives on the issues raised by Alison and the audience.

Many of the people in the audience -- a crowd of about 75 -- were bloggers themselves. At least some of them (Anthony Kaufman, Mike Tully, and AJ Schnack, to name just a few) could have just as easily been on the panel.

One of the more interesting discussions that arose concerned the question of whether bloggers are journalists or not. We also addressed some of the ethical issues that can arise when blogging about film, like whether you should review films by your friends.

After the panel, a few of the people mentioned above went to the Iron Works BBQ to continue talking film. I then caught 638 Ways to Kill Castro. I wasn't planning on seeing it, but it was a good way to stay out of the torrential rain. Castro is a fairly typical leftist documentary (e.g., interviews and archival footage, romantic longing for the revolutionary spirit of the 60s, damning evidence of US government's covert activities, etc.). It's all very upsetting, but the film offers little in the way of suggestions about what the audience should do with its anger. Even more troubling is the fact that the film also asks very few questions about Casto's own record on human rights. Of course, the question of whether such abuses make one worthy of assassination are never asked, in part, because the parties that want Castro dead don't care about his human rights abuses -- they simply want to exploit Cuba for their own ends. Still, in a film that takes as its subject the covert use of power and violence, it seems odd to neglect discussing Castro's own abuses in this regard. Despite these misgivings, I was, in the moment, oddly entertained by the film -- a combination of wry commentary and ironic archival footage give it a sense of humor (as well as a sense of the absurd), which is lacking in so many other earnest, liberal documentaries. My questions linger, though.

After the movie, I hung out with James Johnston and Amy McNutt. We talked politics, movies, and sugar substitutes over at a restaurant with some fine vegan deserts. Yum.

Finally, I made it over to Eagle Pennell's The Whole Shootin' Match. With all due respect to Frownland, Hannah Takes the Stairs, Quiet City, and the Zellner / Duplass shorts program, this was my favorite film of the festival. Shot in the late '70s, the film has been credited with inspiring Robert Redford to start the Sundance Institute. The film follows two blue collar Texas guys that can't seem to get their act together. One's single and an inventor, of sorts; the other is a married man who has trouble staying faithful to his spunky wife. It's more than just a very real, funny, sweet, and unsentimental masterpiece -- it ranks alongside Charles Burnett's Killer of Sheep as one of the most vivid pieces of celluloid Americana I've ever seen.

The Whole Shootin' Match was a perfect last film to see, a reminder that the strong currents of do-it-yourself American independent filmmaking that were on display at SXSW flow from tributaries that go way back and have, for many of us, long since been lost or forgotten.

After I walked out of the theater, I ran back to the hotel in the rain, changed into dry clothes, and headed over to the closing night party, thanks to a ride from David Lowery.

I stayed for a while at the party, long enough to offer one more set of congratulations and compliments to the makers of all the films that I had liked, and long enough to talk face to face one more time with friends, many of whom I had met face to face for the first time in Austin.

The last conversation I had was with a very talented new friend in which we discussed collaborating on a project together. Nothing, and I mean nothing, can touch the promise and anticipation of making new work with people you respect. There are things that can't be put into a swag bag, listed in a festival catalog, or even projected on a screen -- and yet these intangibles of festival-going are why we attend in the first place.

As much as I was enjoying the party, it was time to call it a night. As if on cue, the rain had let up. So I walked back to my hotel in the dark with my mind buzzing, not with alcohol, but with something far better -- ideas for a new film.

An Articulate Movement (of Inarticulateness) Articulated?

Following up on Anthony Kaufman's post of a couple days ago, Eugene Hernandez writes about what's in the air in Austin this year -- you can call them DIY, no-budget, or self-reliant filmmakers. This year, with Hannah Takes the Stairs, Quiet City, Frownland, Orphans these films are the toast of the town. I've been traveling for the last 24 hours (in Knoxville to scout locations for a film I'm shooting), but I have more thoughts on this which I'll try to articulate later.

Then again, I feel like I've been articulating thoughts about this stuff for the last year and a half. It's nice to see indieWire discussing it, even if they do refer to these films as "mumblecore." I believe it goes broader and deeper than that limiting name.

Anyway, here's the article.

A Long Weekend of Short Filmmaking at William & Mary: Pt. 2

Saturday morning at William & Mary began with Troy Davis giving Ashley and me a tour around the William & Mary's Swem Library Media Center. The Director of the Media Center, Troy was my host for the weekend and one of the primary organizers of the Media Center's Long Weekend of Short Filmmaking. The Media Center is several things in one -- an equipment training center, an equipment check-out center, a recording studio for music and podcasts. It's anything and everything that students want and Troy makes himself, and his assistants, available to students to teach them anything from iMovie to Logic Pro.

Troy has been the Director of the Media Center for a year and a half, and it's impressive what he's accomplished. On a technical level, he's helped secure some superb editing facilities (several Mac tower stations with Final Cut, Logic Pro, and the rest of the works, each in its own sound controlled environment). For a guy who describes himself as a "dabbler" when it comes to film, I was impressed with all the smart technology purchases he has been making, not to mention his ability to talk in depth about the subtle differences between various pieces of equipment they own.

Since there are, no doubt, places like this at universities across the country, the biggest accomplishment isn't the equipment and stations he's amassed -- it's the sense of community generates out from this media hub. A lot of that, no doubt, is due to Troy's vision for the Media Center as a place that is accessible and inviting (as opposed to exclusive and intimidating). The Media Center, in fact, is littered with Troy's self-desribed "propaganda" -- humorous, well-designed posters -- that invite students into the space and use the equipment.

After the tour, Troy and I recorded a podcast that covered making and teaching film. He had thought a lot about my work and had some great questions, which is really flattering. (The podcast will be posted at some point on Media Center site. I'll link to it when it's available.)

The podcast led into a "self-reliant filmmaking" workshop that I conducted with some of William & Mary's film students and faculty.

I began by discussing the work I do on this blog, including my reasons for starting it, and how it's transformed my own film practice. I then opened things up for discussion, which led to a wide-ranging conversation that covered everything from what video camera to purchase to some simple strategies for first-time documentarians. Ashley threw in some good advice during the conversation, to boot; I was happy she had joined me.

Our workshop group talked for nearly two hours, so Ashley and I had a quick break for lunch before I ran off to a screening of some of my own short films at the historic Kimball Theatre. The films looked good in this classy venue, I was happy with the turnout, and the questions the audience asked were, again, really good. (I even received some email from audience members after the screening thanking me for sharing my work.) There was a little reception in the theater lobby afterwards, and I enjoyed talking with some of the William & Mary faculty members that had come to the screening. That conversation led to a coffeehouse where Sharon Zuber, who teaches W&M's production courses, and I compared notes about how to teach film production.

We closed out the day by stopping by the premiere of the Cans Film Festival (pun intended), a student-organized screening of films produced at a variety of Virginia universities. (There weren't any entries from Virginia Tech -- maybe next year?) Ashley and I weren't able to stay for long -- I was beat and we had a long drive back in the morning. We did manage to catch one zombie flick before we left.

Before we left on Sunday morning, Troy treated us to breakfast at one of Williamsburg's many pancake houses. Ashley and I had seen a number of pancake houses on our drive in, and I suppose they reflect the fact that Williamsburg is a haven for retirees and a magnet for tourists (motto: "Where History Lives"). The three of us had one last movie-saturated conversation, and Troy told us about his next dream for the Media Center -- restoring an unused auditorium in the William & Mary library and making into a screening facility/microcinema.

As we drove out of town, past a few more pancake houses, I thought about a place like Wiliamsburg. Even with the occasional major production (like Malick's The New World) coming to town, it would still be surprising to see Williamsburg develop into the next Austin. Williamsburg's a town of 12,000 people, and a lot of the people are transient (whether they're tourists, college students, or retirees). That's a tough place to build a film culture. Of course these things don't only apply to Williamsburg. If this sounds like your town, too, well, so be it. It sounds like mine.

The thing is, something is happening in Williamsburg. Things like the Kimball Theatre, and the William & Mary Media Center are part of the puzzle. The "corner pieces" of that puzzle, though, are a dedicated group of people with vision, passion, and resourcefulness. That's the real lifeblood of regional filmmaking and film culture. Some places don't have this, or have enough of it. Luckily, for Williamsburg, it has Troy Davis, Sharon Zuber, Arthur Knight (coordinator of Film Studies at W&M), and a host of student filmmakers. Something tells me that their numbers will only continue to grow.

A Long Weekend of Short Filmmaking at William & Mary: Pt. 1

The College of William & Mary brought me to Williamsburg, Virginia this weekend to participate in a "long weekend of short filmmaking." It's been a busy, and rewarding, weekend. Friday, after arriving to town, I was a judge at 24Speed, William & Mary's variation on those twenty-four hour filmmaking contests that have grown in popularity throughout the country.

In this case, eight teams of six filmmakers each were provided the same line of dialogue (a line from one of last year's videos: "I'm not taking you out, I'm taking you down") and a 1920s yearbook from the college's archives, which they had to use as a prop. After a drawing in which they received two film genres at random each team had to choose one genre in which to work. They then had 24 hours to produce a three-to-five minute video.

By the time of the screening the place was packed. Each of the eight videos had their charms and their share of cleverness. Of course, all of them had their rough spots, too -- what video produced in 24 hours wouldn't? It's funny, though, how those "rough spots" (some out of sync dialogue, say, or let's-roll-with-the-first-and-only-take-performances) become charming in and of themselves when you consider the context of how quickly these things were produced.

After watching all the videos, the two other judges and I had a healthy debate about the merits of the eight videos. Every video, to its credit, managed to produce at least a handful of laughs, jolts, or cringes.

Speaking only for myself, as a judge I was looking for videos that had adequate craft, for starters. Beyond that, though, I wasn't necessarily looking for the best shot or best edited video. I was looking for videos that gave me a fresh take on the genre instead of merely rehashing it. That might sound like a tall order, but there were more than a couple that did this.

Ultimately, after forty-five minutes, the other two judges and I had settled on the prize winners. The winner was a mockumentary that used consistently smart deep-focus cinematography to execute its jokes with a lot of subtlety; an honorable mention was awarded to some ambitious students that came this close to nailing their chosen genre, the musical. That's right, in 24 hours they wrote, scored, shot and edited a musical. It was rough around the edges, sure, but it definitely had me eager to see what these guys could accomplish in 48 hours, and that's worth something.

***

That night, after the screening was over, I realized that I had experienced a change of heart about competitions like 24Speed. In the past, to be perfectly frank, I've had some reservations about the benefits of such competitions. I guess I feared that the 24 hour time constraint reinforced bad habits (mainly, thinking that making a film is something you can rush through) and emphasized competition over collaboration. I see, now, that I've been wrong.

First, the competitive nature (at least at this one) was entirely overshadowed by the fun everyone was having. That was great to see. Competition can push people to do better work, even (especially?) with art. You just can't take it too seriously.

Secondly, and even more importantly, I see now that what these competitions can do is remind us that there are times when it's better to make something as quickly as possible just to do it.

More than anything else, watching these videos (and meeting the students that produced them so quickly) I was reminded of the collaborations I have undertaken in the past with friends on videos for Termite TV. To an outsider, such projects might seem "insignificant," but I always learned something by making them, even if the final product sometimes ended up being kinda rough.

This afternoon, browsing Termite TV's website, I ran across a quote from Manny Farber's "White Elephant Art vs Termite Art" essay, which reads as a kind of found poem for what I saw at 24Speed: a peculiar fact about termite-tapeworm-fungus-moss art is that it moves always forward, eating its own boundaries, and likely as not, leaves nothing in its path but evidence of eager, industrious, unkempt activities

***

Part 2 of W&M's Long Weekend of Short Filmmaking coming soon...

ADDENDUM:All of the entries for the contest are now online for viewing by the general public.

Cinema vs. Home Theater

There's an interesting discussion going on at the Onion's AV Club these days about the relative merits of watching movies in the theater or at home. Noel Murray and Scott Tobias began the discussion in a "Crosstalk" article, and that ingnited a nice little debate in the discussion area. Josh Oakhurst has weighed in on the issue, too (via FresHDV). My partner, Ashley, manages a one-screen historic art house cinema. With the exception of 19th century costume dramas, I'll see pretty much anything they screen. On the other hand, we also have very modest home theater setup. Just so you have the context, here's the setup:

    - a low-end video projector - a movie screen bought for $10 from junk merchants that had set up shop on the side of the road near Joelton, Tennessee - a dvd player - an old home theater audio system handed down from my dad - home-made window blinds that completely blackout our living room when we want to screen in the daytime (unnecessary at night)

It's not fancy, but we love it.

As for which is better, I think there are certainly pros and cons to either experience. I'm certainly not going to argue that people should give up going to the theater, nor that they should stop renting movies. De gustibus non est disputandum, as the saying goes.

These articles did get me (re)thinking the cinema vs. home theater debate. Here are a few personal observations inspired by Murray, Tobias, Oakhurst, et al.

***

Screen size matters. Attention matters more. The biggest advantage that cinemas have over the home viewing experience is not the size of the screen. What matters is that I enter into a kind of social contract wherein I am committing my time and attention to a story. Many people can't, don't, or won't do that at home. They turn on a movie as one of many competing distractions.

If I am serious about watching a movie at home I will turn off the phone, use the restroom, get any food/beverage I might want, and then I'll turn out all the lights and screen the movie using a video projector.

Sure, a big screen helps, but it needn't be as enormous as what I see in a theater. It simply needs to be large enough so that the image and sound command my undivided attention. Arguably any type of projection (film or video) is better than television. Why? Because projection requires darkness for a visible image; television does not. And that darkness directs my attention to the light, the story.

Seeing a film in a movie theater is not a communal experience. I heard someone talking on NPR a few days ago about how we need the theatrical experience because it is "our campfire." I yield to no one in my belief that storytelling plays a civic and communal function, but going to see movies is NOT the same as telling stories around a campfire. For those that can't tell the difference, telling stories around a campfire is an interactive experience wherein the teller's tale is actually shaped by her responding to her audience's reaction as the tale unfolds. Movies are the same every time. Aside from The Purple Rose of Cairo, I've never seen one that talked back to its audience.

Even beyond these obvious facts I simply don't think the theatrical experience of moviegoing is as communal as people make it out to be. When I go to the movies, I go alone or with friends. We watch the movie and we do not talk during it. Then, after it's over, as we exit the theater, we might begin to discuss it. That last part is the communal part, but this discussion could just as easily happen at home, after we've watched the thing on video.

With regards to the "communal experience" I would need to interact with strangers for the theatrical experience to really distinguish itself from what I get from home video. By and large, this simply doesn't happen. In fact, I can't remember the last time I spoke with a stranger at the movies.

The most communal thing that happens during a movie is that strangers laugh at the same joke or scream at the same shock effect. This isn't a terribly deep experience, as experiences go. It doesn't remotely compare with the experience of, say, singing along with strangers at a rock concert or giving some dude a high-five or even a man-hug -- yes, hugging a stranger -- at a football game when the home team scores. Furthermore, if you don't share the rest of the crowd's taste (say, you don't find Little Miss Sunshine as funny as everyone else) then watching a comedy with an audience can be a depressing, even anti-social, experience.

Seeing movies can lead to communal experiences. Movies can serve as today's "campfire story", but since they're the same wherever they're screened (excepting scratches, splices, etc) the communal experience can take place well after the fact of the event. I can talk about Children of Men with my sister on the phone, or with a co-worker in the office lounge, or right here on the Internet. This is the campfire, right here. (Just ask all those people on the Onion AV discussion board.) With regards to my ability to take part in the communal discussion, it doesn't matter how I've seen the movie, just that I have.

There is something special about seeing a motion picture on film, but seeing a work on film does not guarantee or preclude its making an impact on you.

Here's a random list of some of the best movie-watching experiences I've ever had. Some of these are my favorite films; some aren't. There's a huge gap from '99 to '06, which I could fill out if I sat down and thought about this for more than a minute.

    - Star Wars - movie theater - Knoxville, TN (1977) - Hannah and Her Sisters - movie theater - Knoxville, TN (1987) - Sex Lies and Videotape - movie theater - Knoxville, TN (1989) - Through a Glass Darkly - vhs - 12" television (1991) - Jules et Jim - restored 35mm print at AFI cinema in early 90s in Washington DC (1991?) - Jackal of Nahueltoro - 16mm classroom projection (1993) - The Awful Truth - vhs - 12" television - VHS (1993) - Jacquot - movie theater - Durham, NC (1994) - Time Indefinite - movie theater - Chapel Hill, NC (1994) - My Night at Maud's - 16mm print - Philadelphia Senior Citizen's Center - Philadelphia (1995?) - Through the Olive Trees - 35mm print International House - Philadelphia (1995?) - The Garden - 35mm print film festival screening- Philadelphia, PA (1996) - Diary of a Country Priest - crappy VHS edition on 15" television (1996) - L'Argent - 35mm print - Florence Gould Hall - NYC (1997) - Apu Trilogy - 35mm re-release @ Ritz Theaters - Philadelphia, PA (1997?) - Contempt - 35mm re-release @ Ritz Theaters - Philadelphia, PA (1997) - Red - 16mm print - Philadelphia Senior Citizen's Center - Philadelphia (1998) - Window Water Baby Moving - 16mm projected onto a white wall in a 10x10 room at University of Tennessee - projected and watched by myself (1999) - What Farocki Taught - vhs pre-screener - 15" television (1999) - Mulholland Drive - movie theater - Knoxville (2001) - Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind - movie theater - Knoxville (2004) - Yi Yi - dvd - living room video projection (2006)

Most of these were screened on film. Still, some were screened on video, and under lousy conditions at that. What's more interesting to me is that many of these films were rare or difficult to see. The fact remains, though: Film is not a necessary condition for a powerful movie-watching experience. Attentiveness is. (See above.)

The arguments for watching films at home are rarely arguments for the home viewing experience. They're arguments against the theatrical experience. Here are some of those arguments:

    - Some chains think of the movie as that thing that runs after their 2wenty minute in-house commercial. - The cost of seeing a movie in a cinema is at least double what it would cost to rent a video. - Some theaters have lousy projection, sticky floors, etc. - People don't know how to behave in public, and especially not at the movies. (Any serious moviegoer has his/her audience war stories. Here's one: Once, during some lousy Sean Connery movie, a lady seated in the row behind me changed her baby's diaper on the spot. I've seen some movies that stunk, but none more literally than this one. But I digress.)

The point is, those that argue for the glories of home cinema are not saying that it's better, but that it's less bad. On one level, obviously, this reflects what a sorry state we're in as moviegoers. But it also means that if movie theaters, especially the cinema chains, would reevaluate the way they do business they might win back some audiences.

***

I'm lucky. Most of the movies I see in the cinema these days are screened at nicely maintained, independently-owned movie theaters in Blacksburg and Roanoke. Their projection is good and the sound is always adequate, at the very least. My main gripe with these theaters -- and cinemas in general -- is that their programming is not as adventurous as I'd like it to be. And while that might be an argument for watching videos at home, that's a separate issue.

Life (and Filmmaking) During Wartime

Let this article serve to remind us that, whatever production troubles we might be enduring producing one of our films, it could be a lot rougher. From an LA Times article about Mohamed Daradji's Ahlaam, a fiction film shot in Iraq that is now screening at festivals:

The last straw: a chaotic 24-hour period in December 2004 when Daradji and several crew members achieved a sort of modern Iraq trifecta — kidnapped and bullied by Sunni Muslim gunmen, then kidnapped again and bullied by Shiite Muslim gunmen, and finally jailed and interrogated by American soldiers.

As inspiring as it is to read about Daradji's attempts to make art in the face of war, sadly, the bleaker news is this, says the article's author:

Daradji's film may end up being the last movie to come out of Iraq for a while. The country's artistic life experienced a brief resurgence in the year after the U.S.-led invasion, with musicians, painters and actors all striving to restore Baghdad's legacy as one of the Arab world's cultural capitals. That trend has died as Iraq descends into civil war, with much of the educated, artistic class fleeing the country.

When you read something like this it certainly makes even the most astounding filmmaker "war stories" (e.g., comments like Coppola's "This movie isn't about Vietnam. It is Vietnam") look pretty silly.

[via GreenCine]

DVGuru's Demise: On AOL and the owning of blogs

DVGuru, the valuable group blog about most things video and film, is no more as of Wednesday. I read it daily, which I can't say of many websites. I'm disappointed, as are a lot of other readers. What made it an especially useful site was the fact that it served as a kind of aggregator for more specialized and esoteric film/video content-related websites around the web. But beyond aggregation, the writers had a talent for quickly summing up an issue and then leading you to the original source. As a reader -- and as someone whose own writing was at times cited by DVGuru's editors -- I really appreciated that. Alas, I'll now have to find some of my news from other sources.

The announcement caught a few people off guard. What's the story?

I've heard and read that DVGuru, along with some other blogs, were given the axe by AOL, the company that owns Weblogs, Inc. There was nothing controversial about these sites that led to their shutdown -- in these cases it's always about money. Ads weren't selling or getting clicked through or, in all likelihood, it was just too much trouble for AOL to do the research to figure out who should be advertising.

I understand why AOL wanted to acquire Weblogs, Inc. It's a way to own content, and doing so would be a throwback to AOL's dial-up heyday, those halcyon days when it housed a good percentage of the polished content on the internet. The difference is that, in the mid-late 90s, AOL's content was general information, the "frontpage" kind of face that Yahoo and others provide these days. Blogs are different though; almost all of them focus on niche markets. Some companies get this; others mail out millions of CD-roms pleading with you to use dial-up.

(As a point of comparison, consider Google's approach to weblogs. Google didn't try to acquire various popular blogs. It acquired Blogger. The same thinking, no doubt, went into their acquisition of YouTube. Google doesn't want the content. It wants the delivery system for the content.)

Anyway, I'm not going to wring my hands about this -- there are, after all, another billion or so websites out there to read, and there is no such thing as death on the internet. Still, it only re-confirms my skepticism about the long-term viability of corporate-owned weblogs.

So long, DVGuru. It was good to know ya.