Sunday, September 28, 2014

A Short Film is NOT a Calling Card





I reject the idea put by certain indie gurus and distribution strategists that one ought to think of one's short films as calling cards for feature films, or the more likely alternative, a creative or technical position in advertising. 

I think of my short films as complete works. I submit them as works of art. That is to say, the skillful remnants of psychological and spiritual processes -- my own and those of my collaborators. Beyond the ranging subject matter of each film I've made, each one stands as an allegory for the drive to make subversive contact with the world. By saying "subversive" I don't mean aggressively troublesome. I mean it like a situation of working underground. It is exploring the status quo from underneath, searching some oddity or hasty patch job to push against and upset things on the surface, if only for a brief moment. The goal is that the viewer will experience a spell of unsettledness in his our her routine, a thrilling sort of disturbance, and will glimpse some crack in the fabric, an interruption through which new information shines.

I say with much emphasis that the "something new" isn't the film itself.  I'm committed to this notion that, in addition to the images, stories, and poems that make up the subjects of these films,  each film is an allegory for more ambitious drives. The "something new" is arrived at when the audience is hospitable to these drives and reads the film not only for its content but the stuff outside its content -- messages traveling outside the form, alerting the viewer's regulation instincts that something is pushing, pulling, trying to distort the status quo. And the effect of this displacing interruption is, if one is open to the experience, an interesting ride. Best result is when the trip arrives at delight, even though the passage might first pass through gritty places and haunted ones.  

Is this big talk, or tough talk? I don't think so. Any literary or visual artist, no matter his or her level of skill, will cop to sending messages about the psychological, spiritual, and physical processes that travel on a layer just above the matter of the thing he or she has created. The inner drives of the individual or individuals working in collaboration are somehow present and interacting with the object, and this interaction is the messaging stuff that converts the object into art.       

And so why are filmmakers judged on matters of distribution and revenue? It is a situation prolonged by many festivals, as often as not festivals that call for "truly independent" or "maverick" filmmakers. Too many short film programmers are wearing a coat of two colors -- clashing ones. The programmer shows one side of the coat to micro budget filmmakers (those truly independent types) to lure entry. More specifically, the entry fee. The second color is flashed once the program is set; it is a lure to audiences. The business of "truly independent" and "maverick" falls away in favor of shorts that model the filmmaker's feature-length film or advertising ambitions. The "unteachable" stuff of the artist, that is the way of examining foundational moods and drives with surprising images  rather than all too familiar ones, unusual articulation, shot duration that doesn't fall in pace with established patterns -- all this gets overlooked for filmmakers rich enough to afford the vogue tools, such as the sepia or tobacco-toned filters employed on EVERY interior, not matter the mood, high contrast treatments added to any action sequence, even if it is just throwing a softball, and tri-toned coloring effects that can invest any film with the over-calculated quirkiness of a bank card commercial. Doesn't matter the banal storytelling, so long as it looks like something that might play for the bank ad or at the multiplex, and you're in.

I should immediately add that I participate in festivals and have done so for years. Many festivals do serve a civic purpose, and I identify with the ones that rate visionary aspects of motion pictures over commercial ones. Too often the trouble is that festivals want to expand. More venues, more sponsors, that sort of thing. I don't understand why growth of a festival is explicitly linked to the overly familiar interactions, editing beats, and "cinematic" looks of TV commercials. Why this idea that anyone making a short film aspires to an aesthetic status quo? 

Someone looking for fresh ideas in movies is right in one's decision to survey short films. We've hardly come to the end of the line in ways to convert feelings into meanings though motion pictures. You'll probably see a more focused look at contemporary values and rigorous experimenting in a program of shorts than one of feature films. And the best place once can find this sort of thoughtfulness on display is at smaller festivals, or curated events at galleries or museums. Beware those large institutions that boast "truly independent" or "maverick" ambitions; more often than not the short films in those programs trot out the emotion levels and imagery out of commercials you by pass with DVR.     

I realize I've been speaking in blanket terms and in a general way. But thanks to digital distribution and video-sharing sites, the reader may easily compare the latest short film winners at the institutional festivals with the inspired achievements of outsiders. I think the chief difference is that recent winners at institutional festivals work from a drive of earnestness, a feeling of wanting to belong - - and to be seen in that belonging. There is no strangeness in the vision, no play.

To play is the thing (If I may rework the phrase). Thomas Aquinas remarks that there are two kinds of act which have no ends outside themselves: contemplation and play. Most of us will agree that contemplation is essential but not gratifyingly cinematic. But play IS gratifyingly cinematic. I'm bored with the earnestness that gets laurels at festivals and want to see more play in shorts programming. The value of play doesn't depend on established traditions or even futurity. The sort of play I'm talking about here is intellectual play. Serious play. A sense of wonder that  has a subversive relationship with customs and traditions. Again, I am not speaking of an aggressively troublesome temperament. Rather, a temperament that presses against exclusivity to make a hole. An interruption that lets more light in.       

My rating for a good short film is one that stands fine on its own, not a feeling of a highlights reel. One that, like play, is its own sort of act. It is a complete work and not simply a calling card.

Anyone wanting to learn more about my projects, please visit the Tropic Pictures web site. Or find Tropic Pictures on Facebook.

Sunday, August 31, 2014

Fundamentalism




Does two make a trend? I recently heard back from two festivals that, although the festival screeners liked the characterization and experimentation involved in my short film A WELL-PROVED HELPMATE, they felt the subject matter was all wrong for their festivals. The subject matter in question is folk preaching.

One of these festivals understood the character of Pontain Mitchell to be a Christian whack job, and took the movie as a spoof of Christianity. The other festival thought the movie too much like a sermon and advised me to consider entering only Christian content festivals.

A WELL-PROVED HELPMATE has had some success at festivals. It is not my intention to pout about two recent rejections.  In fact, I'm grateful for their honest summaries. I hope this blog entry allows me to reverse what appears to be a tend in some unanticipated judgments about the movie's content.

The movie is about a fictional character named Pontain Mitchell, who is a folk preacher. Pontain shows an uncanny gift for spiritual language. But only when he goes behind a curtain. He even has a different name behind the curtain - - 'Jabez'. Pontain can't explain why he, himself, must be hidden for Jabez's words to come forward. His gift divides him and makes him a peculiar figure in his community.

The authority invested in folk preaching isn't university or seminary. The authority is in the improvisational ability of the speaker and how effectively the speaker turns the listener inward to a meditation on foundational images.

Folk preachers often appear a villains in movies, standing in the way of tolerance and intellectual progress. Pontain, on the other hand, presents folk preaching as an aspect of intellectual history. His crisis in the movie is brought by a division. This division might read as wackiness or trouble. Indeed, Pontain doesn't seem stable in the polite sense. But he is open to searching himself and studying his traditions as a way to come to finer ideas about living in the world.

Exploring ancient traditions and stories of the world, whether Gilgamesh or Genesis, is important nourishment for the rigors of keeping pace with the acceleration of societies in our own time. Pontain isn't backwards for looking back at traditions and foundational images. He's worried about staying relevant, staying "whole" in the present tense.  I think of him rather in the tradition of Peter of Blois, who wrote in the twelfth century:

"However dogs may bark at me, and pigs may grunt. I shall always imitate the writings of the ancients: these shall be my study, nor, while my strength lasts, shall the sun find me idle. We are like dwarfs standing on the shoulders of giants, by whose grace we see farther than they. Our study of the works of the ancients enables us to give fresh life to their finer ideas, and rescue them from time's oblivion and man's neglect."

You can find an online screener copy of A WELL-RPOVED HELPMATE here and by visiting the Tropic Pictures web site, www.TropicPictures.com.

 


Friday, July 25, 2014

Leading Other Lives






 Advocate,  a Dallas magazine,  profiles "serious moonlighters" in the August issue.  It is a feature about performers and writers and their often very different day jobs. My pleasure to be one of the featured multi-taskers in the Lake Highlands edition (Pg.34).

Link: http://www.virtualonlineeditions.com/publication/?i=218390#{"page":0,"issue_id":218390}




Sunday, July 20, 2014

The Twenty-Two Hour Day

I have a full-time job and when I'm not there I 'm writing, shooting, or editing. It is a lively pace but can be difficult. As often as we can, my wife and I try to join our activities. On certain mornings she goes rowing on White Rock Lake, often starting out before dawn. Sometimes I drive out with her and take my camera.




These early morning shoots at White Rock Lake serve two short film projects. One is called TZANATAL, which is a collaboration between me and video-makers Jason Crow and Miles Ryan. TZANATAL is the examination of a miracle. More specifically, it focuses on the moment  when the awe in an awe-inspiring event begins to fade, and people go back to their routines. It is interesting to me that a time of awe is not sustainable. The status quo may be cracked open but it heals quick. Glorious or awful events only keep their shape a little while before the mind straightens them in memory, correcting course for a rational, "normal life." The second project featuring White Rock Lake has the un-cheery but striking title, THE PURITAN WAY OF DEATH. The voice over is a narrative poem that plays with some of the water and desert imagery in Puritan intellectual history -- some of the very ideas that lead to the start of this country.  For desert imagery, I am planning a day of shooting in Wichita Falls, a town that the arid plains will probably reclaim in my lifetime.

I'll put more about these new short films in later blog posts. What I want to discuss today is the pace of filmmaking and maintaing unrelated, full-time employment. My job type job is in retail. The plus is that I never have to take work home with me. I am free before or after shift to make movies. But the pace of balancing both often requires at least one day a week when I am woking nearly 24 hours.

I choose not to work an entire 24 hour day. For me, there is something demoralizing in it. I want the sense of one day ending so another can begin. A sense that life is not all work or not all striving to make films that get noticed. Not to say that every day is toil or joyless. I do enjoy the work of poetry and filmmaking, and, as I mentioned, my wife and I often coordinate activities - - a special pleasure. Nevertheless, there is that one day a week when I feel the need to work double-time, as it were, in order to move projects toward completion.

On the day the above video still was taken, I woke with my wife at 4:50 AM. I got my camera gear together, she her rowing gear, and we were both at our business at White Rock Lake before 6:00 AM. I shot at the lake for a couple of hours, then returned home to pick up the drone, a 4-propellor outfit that flies one of my GoPro cameras around. The city is extending the Katy Trail near my house and, although the work is not complete, a wonderful pathway between the trees has been created. I fly the drone through the trees to good effect. My work here takes about an hour.

Back home, I download the lake and drone footage. I start experimenting with the footage for the projects that I mentioned. I limit myself to an hour on this work. There is a larger, feature-length film I want to make. I vowed to do at least one thing a day toward realizing this project. And so I spend some time on the script.

By this point my wife is home from a post-rowing coffee outing with friends (this story occurs on a weekend.) We spend a bit of time together. But then I have to get ready for my job in retail. That shift begins at 3:30 in the afternoon.

When I come home from shift, it is nearly midnight. I catch up on correspondence (always tying to add to my mailing list) and then do some more work on my script. When I'm too tired to write, I look at pictures - - the footage I shot that day. Both the raw footage and the edited footage - - looking for things I may have missed on the first go. Soon enough, it is 3:00 AM.

Next morning I will be up at 8:00 AM to see my wife off to work and then look at footage again before my shift starts at the store at 11:00 AM.

Mine, of course, is not a unique situation. All the artists I know have day jobs and often those jobs are in unrelated fields, which disallows opportunities for serving employers and muses at once. I write all this down as experience, not complaint. Unless I miss my guess, mine is a typical portrait of the artist working in the U.S.A.

Saturday, June 21, 2014

Mapping Paradise



Happy to have recieved a laurel today from Bare Bones International Film & Music Festival. My script for an un-produced short film called MAPPING PARADISE was an honorable mention. I'm grateful for the consideration - - big thanks to the organizers!

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Invention v. Status Quo




I have a new article up on Glasstire. Here is an excerpt, which follows an idea put by W. H. Auden in his essay "The Dyer's Hand."

"If I make a drawing, then I am, in a sense, committing a political act. I’m communicating to my managers that, at that moment, I am not being managed; I am revealing an aspect of my own conscience in an improvisational way. If I invest my drawing with the authority of my managers, by, say, keeping to the middle-of-the-road expectations of advertisements and the familiar terms of social media, then I am turning myself over again to the status quo. I have not left the norms of control even though the original intention of my drawing was to carry myself past those parameters."

Please see the full article here.