Posted by Sean Hood
Last weekend I directed a Filmmakers Alliance short film called "Melancholy Baby" (aka "Zachariah," aka "Sounds Through A Wall"). The script, which I also wrote, won the Los Angeles Short Filmmaking Grant a while back, but I was having a lot of trouble finding the right elements to get it on its feet. It was only early this year that the pieces came together.
First of all, I found the right producers. Amanda Sweikow (Plus or Minus) and Cain DeVore (Mitzi & Joe) are not only talented filmmakers, they are long time friends who seemed to make it their personal mission to force me to stop putting-off making the movie. I've never had the experience of working with producers who so completely embraced every indie-film-nightmare and allowed me to focus so completely on directing. They were also fierce advocates of the creative ambitions of the film, refusing to let me compromise, even when I wanted to.
The next difficult element was casting the central character. The piece centers on the point of view of an agoraphobic man who spends most of the film listening to his neighbor through their shared wall. There is almost no dialog. I needed to find a talented and experienced actor who had the ability to play an extremely eccentric man while maintaining a childlike innocence. I wanted to find someone with a face you could look at for ten minutes straight and still find both interesting and empathic. It was a tall order, and I auditioned a number of really wonderful actors who just weren't... quite... right.
Then at a children's birthday party I watched actor Patrick Labyorteaux (Yes Man, JAG) from across the room and it struck me that he would be perfect for the character. Luckily, he was eager for this kind of intimate leading part, and was willing do it. I'm not sure I can even imagine another actor in the role now that I've seen him play it, but I won't say much more because I want everyone who reads this to see him in the film for themselves.
The minor roles proved no easier to cast. I ended up losing an extremely talented actress, and I had to recast with only a week before shooting. It wasn't until literally the night before that I was finally able to decide on Linda Tomassone (Confessions of A Dangerous Mind), who turned out to be both striking and mysterious in ways I hadn't expected - as well as extremely professional in juggling everything we threw at her on short notice. Likewise Filmmakers Alliance's own Sean Russell took a cliche-violent-ex-boyfriend role and turned it inside out, giving a performance that was both scary and authentic.
Fortunato Procopio, who shot the Filmmakers Alliance Production "You Turned Back and Held My Hand" by Gabriella Toleman, created haunting visuals using Cain DeVore's famously unfinished house as modeling clay. He was also was admirably calm the night before shooting when we discovered that the brand-new RED camera wouldn't turn on.
Generally, the entire crew worked together with both intensity and focus. I was pleased and amazed by how quickly, professionally, and good-humoredly they all pulled off a surprising number of difficult and complex shots. By the time we wrapped, I was confident that the sound, picture and performances were outstanding, and I was convinced that it all was the result of the creativity of the cast and crew, assembled by the producers, Amanda and Cain.
It took a long time to get here...
My first FA "film" was shot in 1994 on Hi-8, with Filmakers Alliance co-founders Jacques Thelemaque, as the DP, and Diane Gaidry, as the star. Since then I've shot FA films on super-8, on 16mm, on 35mm, and even still photographs. I've been the DP on Sundance shorts; I've supported other FA films as screenwriter, PA, editor, boom operator, creative collaborator, and even sketchbook actor. My short "Shiva's Teardrop" played the first Visionfest event at the DGA over ten years ago.
But last weekend was by far the most rewarding experience I've every had making movies. It was the result of 15 years of FA support, FA workshops, FA collaboration, and FA spirit.
It reminded me that Filmmakers Alliance has always had my back, always pushed me forward, and never let me down.
THANK YOU!!!!!!!!
Friday, April 4, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Shocking nude photographs of Jacques Thelemaque!
Okay, maybe there are no nude photographs of Jacques, but since you are here anyway, read The Filmmakers Alliance Blog. Add your insightful comments and vicious critiques.
Then write your own FA blog entry! We want to know what's on your mind.
As Amanda said...
"Please feel free to email blogs to
blog@filmmakersalliance.org, we'll read them then post them and feel
free to put any of your contact info at the bottom to promote yourself!"
Promote yourself, like this...
Sean Hood
Genre Hacks
Then write your own FA blog entry! We want to know what's on your mind.
As Amanda said...
"Please feel free to email blogs to
blog@filmmakersalliance.org, we'll read them then post them and feel
free to put any of your contact info at the bottom to promote yourself!"
Promote yourself, like this...
Sean Hood
Genre Hacks
Wrting plays, screenplays, or novels
In Response to my post “Why YOU should write Stigmata 3,” Martin Blank wrote this illuminating comment on the differences between writing screenplays and writing stage plays.
He writes:I’ve spent most of my creative life as a playwright, exactly because I wanted to write personal stories. And I’ve been very lucky, as all ten of my plays have found a home, and full productions, some multiple productions. Lucky, indeed. As a playwright, I own the copyright and a theater literally has to GET IT IN WRITING FROM ME if they want to change a word. The down side, which I don’t mind at all, is in my best year I made $25,000 as a playwright. Most years it’s more like five to ten.
But I do just fine coaching actors, which I love to do. And it does not hurt that my wife is an executive for a technology company. I did get into the film world by the back door, as a small production company bought one of my plays after they saw a reading in LA. BUT my eyes where wide open. It was more than I ever made as a playwright, and I got lucky since it only went through a first draft, two rewrites, and a polish. I was the only writer. (I think!) And they were really nice.
On the other hand, I was more than happy to do notes. So it worked out fine. I don’t think the film will ever be made, but my agents think I have a fine sample. And if it gets made, well, I know I’ll be rewritten. So? I got to see the play produced twice exactly as I wrote it, before I ever signed over the rights to film. The only reasons I’d write movies again is for the money, which is not to say it can’t be or was not a lot of fun. It is. You just have to know what you’re getting into. Which is your very smart point.
I also teach playwriting from time to time, and tell people if they don’t want to collaborate, write novels! Which would lead me to my final thought: I know Peter Hedges a little, (he was first a playwright), and he wrote “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape” as a novel. And they don’t get more personal. Then it sold to film. I ran into him on the street in NYC with his novel in hand years ago and he smiled a big smile and said, “Hey, they’re making it into a movie!”
So, while I sneak in to
Cheers,
Martin Blank
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Did You Like "There Will Be Blood?"
Posted by Sean Hood
http://genrehacks.blogspot.com
Many screenwriting blogs are trashing "There Will Be Blood." One in particular can be found here. In it the author argues that because the film doesn't offer a likable main character who undergoes a traditional character arc, the film "fails completely."
This is what I wrote in response to the blog...
I agree that if you want to reach a wide audience, creating empathy for your main characters is a must. I agree that
But I loved it. I loved every minute of it. I loved the visuals. I loved the acting. I loved the story.
Maybe most people will forget the film, but I won't. In fact, I'll bet more film historians write about it fifty years from now than they do "No Country for Old Men."
But challenging films like this one DO bore, frustrate, and annoy the audience. They do come off as cold and intellectual. So I understand the advice to steer clear of unlikeable characters and grim endings. It's advice that I myself have taken.
But, I can't help feeling grateful that a few strange and original filmmakers DON'T take that advice.
- Sean Hood
P.S. I also loved "The Thin Red Line." So maybe it's just me.
http://genrehacks.blogspot.com
Friday, February 29, 2008
Death By A Thousand Hacks
Posted by Sean B. Hood
As a counterpoint to my entry “Why YOU should write Stigmata 3,” I’m now going to tell you how to protect your dream screenplay from a death by a thousand hacks. I’ll start with the hard truth.
The trouble with aspiring screenwriters (whether they realize it or not) is they think of themselves as playwrights instead of filmmakers. They write stunningly original and deeply personal stories and then expect “them” to make the movie just as they have written it. With a few notable exceptions, it never works out that way.
The most likely thing “they” will do with your stunningly original and deeply personal script is ignore it. Stunningly original and deeply personal scripts almost always lose money, and “they” won’t take the risk. In the very unlikely event that your screenplay is actually sold, every word will eventually be rewritten by others, probably by “hacks” like me.
Take the example of my own brother, Brendan Hood. He has been writing original and personal screenplays since he was 14. You can read his brilliant horror screenplay for the movie “They” here. The spec script bears no resemblance the film that was eventually produced. Now, read his sobering interview about the recent release of his follow up movie “Deaths of Ian.” The bottom line is that “they” took his screenplays, not once but twice, and rewrote every word.
I say this not to vilify “them.” Would you risk millions of dollars of your own money on somebody else’s poetry? Most investors who get charmed into financing movies ultimately feel they were swindled by a bunch of flakes and charlatans. Read “their” perspective here.
And for the record, a lot of “them” (studio executives) turn out to smart, perceptive, and creative film-lovers who are just as frustrated as we are when good scripts get mangled by the development process. So don't blame them. You may even find that working with them on genre sequels and comic book adaptations is a lot of fun.
But meanwhile, there is only one solution for you and your stunningly original and deeply personal script: become a hyphenate. Direct it yourself, or raise the money yourself and own your own product. Start by scraping together a little cash for a short film. In the age of digital filmmaking, you don't have excuses any more. Most of all, remember that you are not a writer; the words on the page are just blueprints. You are a filmmaker, and as a filmmaker you should take responsibility for your own films.
For those filmmakers out there who are not cut out to be either producers or directors (and many screenwriters are not), form a close relationship with a producer or director that will last beyond a single film. Filmmakers who find the right creative collaborators, people who force them to make changes to their screenplays FOR THE BETTER, craft the the kinds of scripts that win awards and inspire the rest of us to keep on hacking. You can that too.
Joining Filmmakers Alliance is a great place to start.
--
http://genrehacks.blogspot.com
As a counterpoint to my entry “Why YOU should write Stigmata 3,” I’m now going to tell you how to protect your dream screenplay from a death by a thousand hacks. I’ll start with the hard truth.
The trouble with aspiring screenwriters (whether they realize it or not) is they think of themselves as playwrights instead of filmmakers. They write stunningly original and deeply personal stories and then expect “them” to make the movie just as they have written it. With a few notable exceptions, it never works out that way.
The most likely thing “they” will do with your stunningly original and deeply personal script is ignore it. Stunningly original and deeply personal scripts almost always lose money, and “they” won’t take the risk. In the very unlikely event that your screenplay is actually sold, every word will eventually be rewritten by others, probably by “hacks” like me.
Take the example of my own brother, Brendan Hood. He has been writing original and personal screenplays since he was 14. You can read his brilliant horror screenplay for the movie “They” here. The spec script bears no resemblance the film that was eventually produced. Now, read his sobering interview about the recent release of his follow up movie “Deaths of Ian.” The bottom line is that “they” took his screenplays, not once but twice, and rewrote every word.
Brendan William Hood
I say this not to vilify “them.” Would you risk millions of dollars of your own money on somebody else’s poetry? Most investors who get charmed into financing movies ultimately feel they were swindled by a bunch of flakes and charlatans. Read “their” perspective here.
And for the record, a lot of “them” (studio executives) turn out to smart, perceptive, and creative film-lovers who are just as frustrated as we are when good scripts get mangled by the development process. So don't blame them. You may even find that working with them on genre sequels and comic book adaptations is a lot of fun.
But meanwhile, there is only one solution for you and your stunningly original and deeply personal script: become a hyphenate. Direct it yourself, or raise the money yourself and own your own product. Start by scraping together a little cash for a short film. In the age of digital filmmaking, you don't have excuses any more. Most of all, remember that you are not a writer; the words on the page are just blueprints. You are a filmmaker, and as a filmmaker you should take responsibility for your own films.
For those filmmakers out there who are not cut out to be either producers or directors (and many screenwriters are not), form a close relationship with a producer or director that will last beyond a single film. Filmmakers who find the right creative collaborators, people who force them to make changes to their screenplays FOR THE BETTER, craft the the kinds of scripts that win awards and inspire the rest of us to keep on hacking. You can that too.
Joining Filmmakers Alliance is a great place to start.
--
http://genrehacks.blogspot.com
Monday, February 18, 2008
Horror and Poetic Logic
Posted by Sean Hood
Everyone who plans to attend the next filmmakers forum (Tuesday 19th @ The FA Office 7pm), in which we will discuss "how to make a frightening horror film without gore," should read Jacques recent recent blog entry on poetic logic versus narrative logic.
Link
At the forum I'll argue that it is these methods of poetic cinema, irrational juxtaposition and dream logic (or nightmare logic), that make great horror films, and that this is why many popular movies in the genre make little narrative sense.
It's no accident that most of the most famous cinema "poets," from Kubric (The Shining) to Bergman (Hour of the Wolf), Tarkovsky (Stalker) to Polanski (Repulsion), have all made horror movies.
Everyone who plans to attend the next filmmakers forum (Tuesday 19th @ The FA Office 7pm), in which we will discuss "how to make a frightening horror film without gore," should read Jacques recent recent blog entry on poetic logic versus narrative logic.
Link
At the forum I'll argue that it is these methods of poetic cinema, irrational juxtaposition and dream logic (or nightmare logic), that make great horror films, and that this is why many popular movies in the genre make little narrative sense.
It's no accident that most of the most famous cinema "poets," from Kubric (The Shining) to Bergman (Hour of the Wolf), Tarkovsky (Stalker) to Polanski (Repulsion), have all made horror movies.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Why YOU Should Write “Stigmata 3”
Posted by Sean Hood
“Why the Hell does THAT guy keep getting work?”
I know that’s what you’re thinking. You read my past credits (Halloween 8, Cube 2, The Crow 4) and you say to yourself, “Those movies were CRAP. I could do better than that.” Maybe you have a horror script in your drawer right now that is you think is pure gold. Maybe you’ve read in the blogs that I wrote a script called Hercules for Millennium films, or that I will be re-writing Subterranean for Beacon, or that I’ve handed in a draft of Stigmata 2 for MGM and your rolling your eyes with indignation and disgust.
Well I’m going to explain to you why I keep getting work, why self-respecting writers and filmmakers like me would ever do straight-to-video sequels like Stigmata 2, and why when you are offered the job to write Stigmata 3, you should take it.
First off, when movie executives decide to hire me as a writer, let’s say on Stigmata 2, they do it because they have read screenplays I’ve written for movies that never got made. That screenplay in your drawer? Yeah, I’ve got a dozen of those, and the primary reason I get work is that mine are better.
Secondly, one of the first hard lessons of screenwriting is that a good script is no guarantee of a good movie, and that when the movie doesn’t turn out well, very few people will know or care that your well-written screenplay didn’t make it through the process.
In 2002, the original script for Cube 2 was good enough to land me a multi-picture deal at Dimension Films. Afterwards however, my Cube 2 script was completely re-written by two other writers, one of whom was the producer. The movie that came out contained virtually nothing from my original script. That’s how it goes on most films. It’s just the nature of the film production.
And, I shouldn’t complain about being rewritten. On both Halloween 8 and Crow 4, I was hired as a script doctor to “polish” other writers’ scripts. I did the rewrites on the eve of production, and tried my best to make improvements. Again very little of my work made it to the screen, but the money was good, and I enjoyed collaborating with the people involved.
You see, that’s what screenwriters do. They work on films, both high and low. Before he wrote Lone Star, John Sayles wrote Alligator. Before he wrote award winners like Eastern Promises and A History of Violence, David Cronenberg did movies like Rabid and Parasite.
Take the example of the purest, film-artist I know, Jacques Thelemaque. His films have won awards in European Festivals from the kind of judges who only like movies by Ingmar Bergman and Andrei Tarkovsky. He’s president of Filmmakers Alliance, a grassroots organization dedicated to supporting film artists outside the studio system. You’re not going to find an artist more dedicated to his personal vision (read his excellent blog, A Filmmaker’s Life). But do you want to know what he does as his day job? He produces little straight-to-video horror films with titles like “Within,” “Midnight Movie,” and “Augie and the Wolf.”
The fact is that you CAN do both.
But what’s that? You say you can’t possibly compromise your vision? Then finance your films yourself. Join a group like Filmmakers Alliance. Learn the perils of independent filmmaking and self-distribution. That’s just what I did. And as a result, I won a contest and a grant at the DGA given by FA, Kodak, and Panivision to make a short film just the way I want to, with no rewrites and no compromises.
Meanwhile, I make my living writing little genre movies. I write action. I write horror. I write thrillers. I do it because it’s fun. I do it because it’s a lot easier than loading trucks and more interesting than making lattes. I do it because I love the thrill of writing “the car explodes” and then watching, months later, a REAL CAR EXPLODE.
How can I stand having my name on movies that some people mock and despise? It’s part of the job. No matter what movie you work on you must be prepared for the possibility that it could turn out to be an embarrassing disaster. You have to be prepared to take the heat, or worse yet, the complete… unmitigated… indifference.
That’s the risk I’m taking writing Stigmata 2, and so far it’s worth the risk. People are telling me, in mildly shocked tones, that the first draft is “actually, really good.” As rewrites continue I will continue to throw all my passion into the project, and I remain optimistic that this time, against the odds, my work will make it to the screen, and that this time... it will turn out really, REALLY well.
So, maybe that horror screenplay in your drawer really is pure gold. Maybe it will win screenwriting contests and score you an agent. Maybe movie executives will read it and be so impressed they will offer you the opportunity to write Stigmata 3, the follow up to the surprise straight-to-video hit Stigmata 2. If that happens, don’t be a jackass…
… take the job
“Why the Hell does THAT guy keep getting work?”
I know that’s what you’re thinking. You read my past credits (Halloween 8, Cube 2, The Crow 4) and you say to yourself, “Those movies were CRAP. I could do better than that.” Maybe you have a horror script in your drawer right now that is you think is pure gold. Maybe you’ve read in the blogs that I wrote a script called Hercules for Millennium films, or that I will be re-writing Subterranean for Beacon, or that I’ve handed in a draft of Stigmata 2 for MGM and your rolling your eyes with indignation and disgust.
Well I’m going to explain to you why I keep getting work, why self-respecting writers and filmmakers like me would ever do straight-to-video sequels like Stigmata 2, and why when you are offered the job to write Stigmata 3, you should take it.
First off, when movie executives decide to hire me as a writer, let’s say on Stigmata 2, they do it because they have read screenplays I’ve written for movies that never got made. That screenplay in your drawer? Yeah, I’ve got a dozen of those, and the primary reason I get work is that mine are better.
Secondly, one of the first hard lessons of screenwriting is that a good script is no guarantee of a good movie, and that when the movie doesn’t turn out well, very few people will know or care that your well-written screenplay didn’t make it through the process.
In 2002, the original script for Cube 2 was good enough to land me a multi-picture deal at Dimension Films. Afterwards however, my Cube 2 script was completely re-written by two other writers, one of whom was the producer. The movie that came out contained virtually nothing from my original script. That’s how it goes on most films. It’s just the nature of the film production.
And, I shouldn’t complain about being rewritten. On both Halloween 8 and Crow 4, I was hired as a script doctor to “polish” other writers’ scripts. I did the rewrites on the eve of production, and tried my best to make improvements. Again very little of my work made it to the screen, but the money was good, and I enjoyed collaborating with the people involved.
You see, that’s what screenwriters do. They work on films, both high and low. Before he wrote Lone Star, John Sayles wrote Alligator. Before he wrote award winners like Eastern Promises and A History of Violence, David Cronenberg did movies like Rabid and Parasite.
Take the example of the purest, film-artist I know, Jacques Thelemaque. His films have won awards in European Festivals from the kind of judges who only like movies by Ingmar Bergman and Andrei Tarkovsky. He’s president of Filmmakers Alliance, a grassroots organization dedicated to supporting film artists outside the studio system. You’re not going to find an artist more dedicated to his personal vision (read his excellent blog, A Filmmaker’s Life). But do you want to know what he does as his day job? He produces little straight-to-video horror films with titles like “Within,” “Midnight Movie,” and “Augie and the Wolf.”
The fact is that you CAN do both.
But what’s that? You say you can’t possibly compromise your vision? Then finance your films yourself. Join a group like Filmmakers Alliance. Learn the perils of independent filmmaking and self-distribution. That’s just what I did. And as a result, I won a contest and a grant at the DGA given by FA, Kodak, and Panivision to make a short film just the way I want to, with no rewrites and no compromises.
Meanwhile, I make my living writing little genre movies. I write action. I write horror. I write thrillers. I do it because it’s fun. I do it because it’s a lot easier than loading trucks and more interesting than making lattes. I do it because I love the thrill of writing “the car explodes” and then watching, months later, a REAL CAR EXPLODE.
How can I stand having my name on movies that some people mock and despise? It’s part of the job. No matter what movie you work on you must be prepared for the possibility that it could turn out to be an embarrassing disaster. You have to be prepared to take the heat, or worse yet, the complete… unmitigated… indifference.
That’s the risk I’m taking writing Stigmata 2, and so far it’s worth the risk. People are telling me, in mildly shocked tones, that the first draft is “actually, really good.” As rewrites continue I will continue to throw all my passion into the project, and I remain optimistic that this time, against the odds, my work will make it to the screen, and that this time... it will turn out really, REALLY well.
So, maybe that horror screenplay in your drawer really is pure gold. Maybe it will win screenwriting contests and score you an agent. Maybe movie executives will read it and be so impressed they will offer you the opportunity to write Stigmata 3, the follow up to the surprise straight-to-video hit Stigmata 2. If that happens, don’t be a jackass…
… take the job
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
BUDDHISTS DON'T CON YOU
Posted by Sean Hood
Student: You often criticize a film by saying that it is too aware of the audience. But when people make films, especially in the West, the point is to entertain people.
Chogyam Trungpa: If you are completely confident in yourself, you don't have to think about the audience at all. You just do your thing, you just do it properly. This means YOU become the audience. What you make is entertainment, but that needs a certain amount of wisdom. When an artist does a painting for commission, there is a good likelihood that his painting will be one-sided because he is aware of the audience and he has to relate to the educational standards of the audience. If he presents his own style without reference to the audience, they will begin to react and automatically their sophistication will develop and eventually will reach the level of the artist....You see, we have the responsibility of raising the mentality of the audience. People might have to reach out with a certain amount of strain, but it's worth it. The whole civilization then begins to raise its level of sophistication....The beautiful thing about Buddhism, if I may say so, is that Buddhists don't try to con you. They just present what they have to say as it is, take it or leave it.
From "Visual Dharma: Film Workshop," in the COLLECTED WORKS OF CHOGYAM TRUNGPA, Volume Seven, pages 644-645.
Student: You often criticize a film by saying that it is too aware of the audience. But when people make films, especially in the West, the point is to entertain people.
Chogyam Trungpa: If you are completely confident in yourself, you don't have to think about the audience at all. You just do your thing, you just do it properly. This means YOU become the audience. What you make is entertainment, but that needs a certain amount of wisdom. When an artist does a painting for commission, there is a good likelihood that his painting will be one-sided because he is aware of the audience and he has to relate to the educational standards of the audience. If he presents his own style without reference to the audience, they will begin to react and automatically their sophistication will develop and eventually will reach the level of the artist....You see, we have the responsibility of raising the mentality of the audience. People might have to reach out with a certain amount of strain, but it's worth it. The whole civilization then begins to raise its level of sophistication....The beautiful thing about Buddhism, if I may say so, is that Buddhists don't try to con you. They just present what they have to say as it is, take it or leave it.
From "Visual Dharma: Film Workshop," in the COLLECTED WORKS OF CHOGYAM TRUNGPA, Volume Seven, pages 644-645.
Have Movie Critics Become Irrelevant
Posted by Sean Hood
Now that anyone and everyone with an internet connection can be a movie critic, what is the point of professional reviewers? Do we really need someone's professional opinion on NATIONAL TREASURE? Do I really need to read a professional's top-ten-list, which invariably amounts to a re-ordering of THERE WILL BE BLOOD, SAVAGES, NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN and JUNO, among the other anointed?
But skimming a top ten list in the Wall Street Journal, I came across this paragraph.
"Including a documentary that almost no one has seen may seem like an affectation, but my hope is to get you to see "Manufactured Landscapes," not to impress you with the fashionable obscurity of my taste. Discovering Jennifer Baichwal's film at the New Zealand Film Festival earlier this year -- it also played briefly in this country -- was a perception-changing experience. Inspired by the work of the Canadian photographer Edward Burtynsky, "Manufactured Landscapes" starts with an eight-minute tracking shot down one aisle of a Chinese factory the size of a small town. Then it follows Mr. Burtynsky on a tour of industrial Asia in order to show -- without polemics -- the scale of man's activities, and the impact they're having on our planet. I thought I had some sense of that impact until I saw this astonishing doc."
What startled me about that paragraph is that the reviewer, Joe Morgenstern, felt the need to apologize for doing his job. It seems to me that when the internet is flooded with amateur reviews, the only legitimate function of the critic, who travels around the world to film festivals and who does nothing else but watch movies, is to find obscure and under-promoted cinema and bring it to the public's attention. I haven't seen MANUFACTURED LANDSCAPES, but I will now.
By extension, I hope that the Filmmakers Alliance posting board and blog give us a forum not only to discuss our all time favorites, but to share those obscure and under-promoted titles that we would otherwise never come across. As filmmakers we can discuss what our own movies could be in the context of these strange little movies that continue to inspire us.
As for the old fashioned newspaper critics and new fangled bloggers who snark and snipe about the next Batman movie, they're only waisting our time.
- sbh
P.S. Not that there's anything wrong with Batman. The trailer looks way cool, although Heath Ledger looks eerily like Brandon Lee in The Crow.
Now that anyone and everyone with an internet connection can be a movie critic, what is the point of professional reviewers? Do we really need someone's professional opinion on NATIONAL TREASURE? Do I really need to read a professional's top-ten-list, which invariably amounts to a re-ordering of THERE WILL BE BLOOD, SAVAGES, NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN and JUNO, among the other anointed?
But skimming a top ten list in the Wall Street Journal, I came across this paragraph.
"Including a documentary that almost no one has seen may seem like an affectation, but my hope is to get you to see "Manufactured Landscapes," not to impress you with the fashionable obscurity of my taste. Discovering Jennifer Baichwal's film at the New Zealand Film Festival earlier this year -- it also played briefly in this country -- was a perception-changing experience. Inspired by the work of the Canadian photographer Edward Burtynsky, "Manufactured Landscapes" starts with an eight-minute tracking shot down one aisle of a Chinese factory the size of a small town. Then it follows Mr. Burtynsky on a tour of industrial Asia in order to show -- without polemics -- the scale of man's activities, and the impact they're having on our planet. I thought I had some sense of that impact until I saw this astonishing doc."
What startled me about that paragraph is that the reviewer, Joe Morgenstern, felt the need to apologize for doing his job. It seems to me that when the internet is flooded with amateur reviews, the only legitimate function of the critic, who travels around the world to film festivals and who does nothing else but watch movies, is to find obscure and under-promoted cinema and bring it to the public's attention. I haven't seen MANUFACTURED LANDSCAPES, but I will now.
By extension, I hope that the Filmmakers Alliance posting board and blog give us a forum not only to discuss our all time favorites, but to share those obscure and under-promoted titles that we would otherwise never come across. As filmmakers we can discuss what our own movies could be in the context of these strange little movies that continue to inspire us.
As for the old fashioned newspaper critics and new fangled bloggers who snark and snipe about the next Batman movie, they're only waisting our time.
- sbh
P.S. Not that there's anything wrong with Batman. The trailer looks way cool, although Heath Ledger looks eerily like Brandon Lee in The Crow.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Why Are You A Filmmaker?
Posted by Mark Dufresne
Over the years I've found that my talents all point
to filmmaking. It is the most natural fit for me.
I'm happy to have found filmmaking, because it's
freed me to dream big again...
something that I haven't done in a while.
Posted by Paul Gutrecht
I've been thinking lately about why we go to movies in the first place. I think we like to be entertained, engaged, and challenged in a story-telling environment: it's dark (we're released from our own bodily limitations), and whether we want to know the people around us or not, we are about to experience something with a group of other people (if we're in a theater vs. the living room). It's a story we're interested in, since we chose to be there, but what I've been thinking about is the other story getting told or re-told as you watch a movie.
The only actual motion in a movie theater is the flashing of many frames of film or video at such a fast rate that the illusion of fluid motion is created in our minds. That rapid flashing in combination with the audio create the fluid experience of the story unfolding before our eyes, but it's really unfolding behind them in our brains.
And when the story is good, we feel a connection to the story. Hard to say what that is, but maybe "connection" refers to how the story of the movie, written, directed, performed, edited by someone else and now undfolding in our brain, is stirring up our own memories of experience, dreams, desires, and so on, so that while we "watch" the movie we paid good money to see, we are also connecting on another level to painful and happy experiences, wishes and plans of our own making.
So that when "all is lost" in a movie, we relate to it in some way, and when the "final battle scene" is engaged, we connect on some level with our own battles, and a "new equilibrium" is reached, we compare it to where we went that one time when we were challenged in our own lives in one way or another.
So, I have made a few shorts, and hope to make a feature or two, in an attempt to stir that connection between the story projected and those of the people watching it, maybe to inspire them, to invigorate them in some way with the notion that others have had comparable (or not-comparable, but relatable) experiences and resolved them in this way or that way. So that when the audience leaves the big dark room with all the other people we don't know, we leave with the commone experiene of the movie and our own experience of the movie in relationship to the narrative unfolding within each one of us.
Posted by Carlo Pangalangan
I make films because there is nothing else that I enjoy doing more.And I have little patience for anything else; repetition usually bores me, but an activity as repetitive as shooting several takes or editing the footage down to the a final cut. And there's nothing more satisfying then being able to have a finished film.
I also love to make films because I love seeing the audiences different reactions and interpretations to my work. I love how audiences can accept events happening on the flat screen as a reality, something I unfortunately can't experience with my own films.
Posted by Gina Levy
Why...
I make films because it is both challenging and fulfilling. I have encountered other challenging endeavors--rock climbing, long distance running, quantum physics, advanced chemistry. But in contrast to those, filmmaking demands self-expression and creativity. From nothing, I create a story, a series of words and images that communicate a plot and generate emotion in the audience.
I love filmmaking because it requires me to master a broad array of skills. I need to develop/write compelling stories, collaborate with actors and crew, negotiate with vendors, have a singular vision, possess an aesthetic sensibility, artfully employ music to augment storytelling, build an emotional arc of a story while shooting out of sequence, master the rhythm of editing to take my audience for ride, figure out a way to make a living, understand how lenses, camera format, framing influence story telling and communicate all this clearly to my collaborators and my audience: so many skills and so much knowledge are necessary to become a master filmmaker.
And it requires perseverance. I stumble... I create something that doesn't work, and then I must go back to rewrite, to reshoot, to rework, to make the work work. I must constantly figure out what I don't know and how I can learn more to improve my skills and execution.
But when I am successful, I have manifested a visual and audio experience for people that takes them on a singular and compelling journey. I have realized something that no one else could have created as it comes from my unique experience and understanding of the world. And sometimes I am able to create something that deeply moves people, that takes them to a world they would never have entered, that shows them a different way of seeing things that are right in front of them.
That is why I do it...because it is both extremely hard and extremely rewarding.
Posted by Antony Berrios
Asking a question about why I make films is a complex question.
Not very simple to answer, it's almost like asking why do I breath.
So in some ways for me to make films is to live.
For me it has nothing to do with making money or being famous. It's
not as shallow as that.
For me film is an artistic expression such as painting or composing music.
It's a radical convergence of luck, art and patience.
Some make films to be famous.
Others try and try to say something profound but in the end really
have nothing profound to say at all.
There is of course room in the big gooey pot of filmmaking for everyone.
And in the end no one is more right then the other. That's what makes
it an art form.
One might like Nora Ephron while others prefer
Gaspar Noe.
"The most difficult thing in the world is to reveal yourself, to
express what you have to. As an artist, I feel that we must try many
things - but above all we must dare to fail. You must be willing to
risk everything to really express it all."
-John Cassavetes
Posted by Sean Hood
I make films to explore inner life. I make them to visualize a character's internal conflict, fear, and desire - and then project those private thoughts into external space. I'm more interested in symbolism than realism, dreams than documents, and personas than politics. So, the movies I love tend to be haunting, moody, and intense. I make films (try, work, fail, despair, hope to make them) so that someone might watch and say, "Yes. YES! That's it!" So that they might recognize some ineffable, numinous SOMETHING that they always knew was there but had never seen - and then somehow be changed for watching it.
Over the years I've found that my talents all point
to filmmaking. It is the most natural fit for me.
I'm happy to have found filmmaking, because it's
freed me to dream big again...
something that I haven't done in a while.
Posted by Paul Gutrecht
I've been thinking lately about why we go to movies in the first place. I think we like to be entertained, engaged, and challenged in a story-telling environment: it's dark (we're released from our own bodily limitations), and whether we want to know the people around us or not, we are about to experience something with a group of other people (if we're in a theater vs. the living room). It's a story we're interested in, since we chose to be there, but what I've been thinking about is the other story getting told or re-told as you watch a movie.
The only actual motion in a movie theater is the flashing of many frames of film or video at such a fast rate that the illusion of fluid motion is created in our minds. That rapid flashing in combination with the audio create the fluid experience of the story unfolding before our eyes, but it's really unfolding behind them in our brains.
And when the story is good, we feel a connection to the story. Hard to say what that is, but maybe "connection" refers to how the story of the movie, written, directed, performed, edited by someone else and now undfolding in our brain, is stirring up our own memories of experience, dreams, desires, and so on, so that while we "watch" the movie we paid good money to see, we are also connecting on another level to painful and happy experiences, wishes and plans of our own making.
So that when "all is lost" in a movie, we relate to it in some way, and when the "final battle scene" is engaged, we connect on some level with our own battles, and a "new equilibrium" is reached, we compare it to where we went that one time when we were challenged in our own lives in one way or another.
So, I have made a few shorts, and hope to make a feature or two, in an attempt to stir that connection between the story projected and those of the people watching it, maybe to inspire them, to invigorate them in some way with the notion that others have had comparable (or not-comparable, but relatable) experiences and resolved them in this way or that way. So that when the audience leaves the big dark room with all the other people we don't know, we leave with the commone experiene of the movie and our own experience of the movie in relationship to the narrative unfolding within each one of us.
Posted by Carlo Pangalangan
I make films because there is nothing else that I enjoy doing more.And I have little patience for anything else; repetition usually bores me, but an activity as repetitive as shooting several takes or editing the footage down to the a final cut. And there's nothing more satisfying then being able to have a finished film.
I also love to make films because I love seeing the audiences different reactions and interpretations to my work. I love how audiences can accept events happening on the flat screen as a reality, something I unfortunately can't experience with my own films.
Posted by Gina Levy
Why...
I make films because it is both challenging and fulfilling. I have encountered other challenging endeavors--rock climbing, long distance running, quantum physics, advanced chemistry. But in contrast to those, filmmaking demands self-expression and creativity. From nothing, I create a story, a series of words and images that communicate a plot and generate emotion in the audience.
I love filmmaking because it requires me to master a broad array of skills. I need to develop/write compelling stories, collaborate with actors and crew, negotiate with vendors, have a singular vision, possess an aesthetic sensibility, artfully employ music to augment storytelling, build an emotional arc of a story while shooting out of sequence, master the rhythm of editing to take my audience for ride, figure out a way to make a living, understand how lenses, camera format, framing influence story telling and communicate all this clearly to my collaborators and my audience: so many skills and so much knowledge are necessary to become a master filmmaker.
And it requires perseverance. I stumble... I create something that doesn't work, and then I must go back to rewrite, to reshoot, to rework, to make the work work. I must constantly figure out what I don't know and how I can learn more to improve my skills and execution.
But when I am successful, I have manifested a visual and audio experience for people that takes them on a singular and compelling journey. I have realized something that no one else could have created as it comes from my unique experience and understanding of the world. And sometimes I am able to create something that deeply moves people, that takes them to a world they would never have entered, that shows them a different way of seeing things that are right in front of them.
That is why I do it...because it is both extremely hard and extremely rewarding.
Posted by Antony Berrios
Asking a question about why I make films is a complex question.
Not very simple to answer, it's almost like asking why do I breath.
So in some ways for me to make films is to live.
For me it has nothing to do with making money or being famous. It's
not as shallow as that.
For me film is an artistic expression such as painting or composing music.
It's a radical convergence of luck, art and patience.
Some make films to be famous.
Others try and try to say something profound but in the end really
have nothing profound to say at all.
There is of course room in the big gooey pot of filmmaking for everyone.
And in the end no one is more right then the other. That's what makes
it an art form.
One might like Nora Ephron while others prefer
Gaspar Noe.
"The most difficult thing in the world is to reveal yourself, to
express what you have to. As an artist, I feel that we must try many
things - but above all we must dare to fail. You must be willing to
risk everything to really express it all."
-John Cassavetes
Posted by Sean Hood
I make films to explore inner life. I make them to visualize a character's internal conflict, fear, and desire - and then project those private thoughts into external space. I'm more interested in symbolism than realism, dreams than documents, and personas than politics. So, the movies I love tend to be haunting, moody, and intense. I make films (try, work, fail, despair, hope to make them) so that someone might watch and say, "Yes. YES! That's it!" So that they might recognize some ineffable, numinous SOMETHING that they always knew was there but had never seen - and then somehow be changed for watching it.
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