JAKE SQUARED filmmaker Howard Goldberg will participate in Q&A’s after the 7:30 PM screenings at the Town Center on Friday and Saturday, August 15 and 16. Actor Kevin Railsback will join him for the Saturday screening.
by Lamb L.
JAKE SQUARED filmmaker Howard Goldberg will participate in Q&A’s after the 7:30 PM screenings at the Town Center on Friday and Saturday, August 15 and 16. Actor Kevin Railsback will join him for the Saturday screening.
by Lamb L.
COLDWATER director Vincent Grashaw will participate in Q&A’s after the 7 PM screenings at the Playhouse on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, August 15 -17, as well as the 10 PM screening on Saturday the 16th.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CyKI3N5rgjM
by Lamb L.
WEAVING THE PAST director Walter Dominguez and executive producer Shelley Morrison will participate in a Q&A following the 4 PM screening at the Playhouse on Sunday, August 24.
by Lamb L.
This August 15th we’ll be opening Jonathan Demme’s filmed version of Wallace Shawn and Andre Gregory’s acclaimed stage production of Henrik Ibsen’s A MASTER BUILDER. Recently film critic David Edelstein, a self-proclaimed Ibsenite, sat down for a group interview with the triumvirate:
On Wednesday, July 22, I had the privilege of hosting a talk with Andre Gregory, Wallace Shawn, and Jonathan Demme, under the auspices of the Screen Actors Guild Foundation, after a screening of the trio’s impressive collaboration A Master Builder (now playing at New York’s Film Forum). Much as they did with Uncle Vanya (filmed by Louis Malle as Vanya on 42nd Street), Gregory, Shawn, and the cast rehearsed Ibsen’s play for many years, ultimately performing it for small, invited audiences. Malle being dead, Demme stepped into the breach and filmed the production quickly and well.
A Master Builder centers on acclaimed architect Halvard Solness (played onscreen by Shawn), who fears being dislodged by the next generation. He feels especially vulnerable because he has, over the last decade, gone from making towering structures to smaller buildings in which real people can live. He has lost some stature and is in a depressive marriage with a prim ghost of a woman (Julie Hagerty). At a key juncture, a young woman, Hilda (Lisa Joyce), a kind of architect groupie, arrives to spur Solness to ascend once more — to drive him toward that unattainable ideal, both metaphorically and literally. (She wants him to lay a wreath at the top of his new tower in spite of his fear of heights.)
This was a transitional play for Ibsen (he had many), a move from the more naturalistic dramas (the best known are A Doll’s House, Ghosts, and Hedda Gabler) of his middle stage and towards the mysterious, symbolic works on which he labored until his death. Gregory and Shawn’s innovation is to make Hilda and everything that happens in her wake a deathbed dream of the master builder. That might offend purists, but, as far as I’m concerned, it brings out every one of the play’s undercurrents while accounting for its often ludicrous surface. I’m not sure Ibsen would have approved, but I think he’d have liked how well the version plays.
What follows is an edited version of our onstage talk. Let me warn you that we don’t discuss Gregory and Shawn’s dramatized version of their friendship inMy Dinner With Andre or Shawn’s inconceivably beloved performance in The Princess Bride. The audience consisted of actors, and the focus was tightly on this play, this film, and this creative process. I had a lot of fun, and I hope you’ll enjoy reading it.
David Edelstein: First let me say that I’m not just a film critic, I’m an Ibsenite. I love Ibsen and I love this play … and every time I’ve seen it, it has stunk up the stage. It’s an obstacle course over a minefield. You have this naturalistic form and these mythic characters, and audiences either laugh inappropriately or roll their eyes. If you had asked me, “Should we do this play?” I’d have said, “Steer clear.” And yet this is a great movie. What drew you to A Master Builder in the first place? And at what point did you think you could make sense of it by doing it as a dream play?
Andre Gregory: Well, I think what drew me to it was that I was getting old. [Audience laughs and claps.] Thank you.
Wallace Shawn: He wasn’t 80 at that time.
Gregory: When we started this 16 or 17 years ago, I was young, yeah. On a more interesting level, I think that I saw Solness as an artist who had, in a way, reached the end of his career or had nothing left in him to create and finds the way to embrace the last interesting creative challenge, which is giving up this life, and how to do that. When I was a 7-year-old boy, I went to a school where every Christmas, they read Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, and I was fascinated by the character of Scrooge, who I see somewhat like Solness. There’s always hope. No matter what kind of a son-of-a-bitch you are, no matter how unhappy you are, how loveless, it’s not over ’til it’s over. And once, when I was in Poland, I was introduced to a young man who didn’t know who I was and he looked into my eyes and he said, “When I look into your eyes, I see the saddest optimist I’ve ever met.” I don’t know if that answers your question.
It does. I never thought of A Master Builder on those terms. I think of Ibsen’s final play When We Dead Awaken that way, as the story of an artist figuring out how to die, but it never occurred to me that you could locate that idea in A Master Builder, too.
Gregory: Well, of course we emphasize it, and when Wally and I had our mutual, in a way, death scene together — that first scene in the movie — this guy [Jonathan Demme] was roaring with laughter. The more depressing it got, the funnier he thought it was.
Was the theatrical production a dream play?
Shawn: I didn’t feel comfortable tampering with the text, really, until we put in something like a dozen years. We rehearsed the play starting in 1997—
Most artists peak around the seventh year of rehearsal, I hear.
Shawn: —and after we had done about 12 years, I did feel that somehow I had earned that right — which could be certainly argued with, some people might say that was a terrible thing to do — but I did tamper with the text, taking out certain things and putting in the fact that it was all a dream. Because it is not a realistic play, and it can’t be a realistic play, and Hilda cannot be a real girl. I mean, in a very, very tortured way, you could figure out a story in which Hilda made sense as a real person, but you’d be disturbing Ibsen’s play, really.
She was based on a real person in Ibsen’s life, but he transformed her into a mythic creature.
Shawn: She’s a fantastical figure, and Andre had always seen her as that. Once that decision was made, you can see how the play really is about someone wrestling with the contradictions in his own life, contradictions that he cannot resolve and he doesn’t resolve. And of course, you feel that of Ibsen himself.
Gregory: He was the most self-revelatory writer. Maybe because it was so outlandish and so impossible — and people in his time didn’t know that you could be a confessional dramatist in that way — that I don’t think people asked him, “Gee, do you feel these contradictions within yourself?” Because they wouldn’t have presumed such a thing.
Read the rest of the interview on the Vulture.com site.
by Lamb L.
We are very pleased to be opening the new film FIFI HOWLS FROM HAPPINESS at our Royal and Town Center theaters on Friday, August 15. The lyrical documentary explores the enigma of provocative artist Bahman Mohassess, the so-called “Persian Picasso,” whose acclaimed paintings and sculptures dominated pre-revolutionary Iran. In the Village Voice Michael Atkinson called the film “never less than addictively fascinating – Mohassess’s story is a heroic torch of individualism battling mad-state ideology, from the Shah to the mullahs, and his autumnal stance toward all things non-Mohassess is hilariously derisive.” Recently Hollywood Soapbox interviewed director Mitra Farahani about her film. Mohassess, she says, “used to ask: “what could be the meaning of painting anymore, in a world with a sky devoid of birds, a sea devoid of fishes and a wood devoid of beasts?’ In front of all that violence Mohassess’ answer of course was not self-destruction, for the course of his life showed him harshly struggling with those issues, in a positive attitude. But certainly the end of his life, the choice of self-exile and symbolic retirement, all the violence in the world that profoundly disgusted him, all contributed to a more violent answer to violence. Destruction progressively becoming a part of it.”
by Lamb L.
“The first time we met he didn’t talk very much, he was very shy, very intense, his blue eyes — he would look at you like a beast almost, he was very wild.”
– Melvil Poupaud (A SUMMER’S TALE) on Filmmaker Eric Rohmer
Tragically for U.S. cinephiles, Eric Rohmer’s 1996 richly satisfying A SUMMER’S TALE never enjoyed a theatrical release in the states. Now, nearly 20 years later, this situation is being rectified. Laemmle is proud to present a new restoration of this cinematic treasure to L.A. audiences. It opens next Friday at the Royal (July 18) and the following week at the Playhouse and Town Center.
Rohmer is no longer with us but his lead actor, MELVIL POUPAUD, recently spoke about his experience making A Summer’s Tale and, in the process, illuminated what made the seminal filmmaker so singular and influential. Below is the interview and accompanying article by Jose Solis of Pop Matters.
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June 30, 2014
By the time of his death in 2010, Éric Rohmer had cemented his status as one of the most important filmmakers in history. He was the last of the children of Cahiers du cinéma to establish a name for himself, but with films like My Night with Maud (Ma nuit chez Maud, 1969) and The Collector (La Collectionneuse, 1967), it was evident that his style was as important and groundbreaking as those of his most famous colleagues: Truffaut, Godard and Chabrol.
Obsessed with the complicated nature of what makes us human, Rohmer had first gained notoriety with his Six Moral Tales (1963), a series of films in which he explored philosophy filtered through the lens of sexual liberation and female empowerment.
Pursuing his interest of revealing film as an encompassing of truths, in the ‘90s he created a series he called Tales of the FOUR SEASONS, which he made throughout the decade, and all of which went on to gain critical acclaim. Despite the importance of his work, the enjoyment of Rohmer’s oeuvre has usually been relegated to connoisseurs, his films never won the popularity of Truffaut’s or Godard’s, which is why it might come as a surprise to realize that his 1996 A Summer’s Tale (Conte d’été) only recently made its American theatrical debut.
The third in his Tales of the FOUR SEASONS series, A Summer’s Tale features MELVIL POUPAUD as Gaspard, a young man who arrives at a small Breton resort, where he makes music and goes on walks while he waits for his girlfriend, who seems to be taking longer than expected. Perhaps inspired by the beauty of Brittany, Gaspard finds that romance thrives in the air, and soon he meets two other women with whom he develops platonic romances.
Sensual and hypnotic in equal doses, A Summer’s Tale is a rich snapshot of youth and the hopefulness contained in the realization that the world is nothing if not endless possibilities. On the eve of the film’s release, we talked to lead actor Poupaud, who shared anecdotes about the shoot, as well as insight into Rohmer’s enigmatic personality.
Have you gone back to revisit A Summer’s Tale recently? Do you ever go back and revisit your work in general?
No. Just sometimes, I catch bits of it on television or when I go to screenings. I haven’t watched the whole movie recently though. And no, I never go back and see my other films. (laughs)
The film’s use of conversation feels quite fresh, even modern, and reminds us that Rohmer was usually working ahead of his time when it came to cinematic styles. We have seen this “style” being copied time and time again in recent years. What do you think audiences will discover by going to see this instead of a big popcorn movie?
I think it would be better if they know about Rohmer’s work before the see the film, otherwise it could be a shock. Even in France his was a very special way of making films, a very special way of acting. The funny thing is that a lot of people now in France, and all around the world really,claim to be influenced by Éric Rohmer so it’s a pretext to make movies in which people talk a lot, about the weather, love, things like that.
But I believe it’s very difficult to try and imitate Eric’s style. A lot of people have tried to imitate him but they make very boring, caricature-like French films. In fact if you look at it, Éric’s filmography is very stylized, very precise and people don’t talk about bullshit.
What do you remember about meeting Éric Rohmer for the first time?
I remember I was impressed. It was one of his favorite actresses who first took me to his office in the first place, Arielle Dombasle, she was in many of his movies. She told me that Éric was looking for an actor to play in his next movie but he hadn’t found anyone yet. So she told me “you have to meet Éric because he’s looking for someone to play Gaspard.”
I was scared because I didn’t really like any of the Rohmer movies I’d seen before. I thought they were a bit boring, especially for a male character. I thought it would be bad to be an actor in his films because he’d make you look shy, awkward and stupid. I was lucky, because I think this is one of his only films where the main character is a guy—cause he mostly gave the big parts to girls—as soon as I met him I realized he’d put a lot of himself into this character.
Everything I say, everything he has to say, all the long monologues about the way he doesn’t feel like he’s part of a community, and all these ideas I really think they came from Rohmer himself. I don’t think it’s autobiographical, but it’s very close to what he was.
The first time we met he didn’t talk very much, he was very shy, very intense, his blue eyes—he would look at you like a beast almost, he was very wild. Going to his office after this first meeting, and getting to know the actresses, we would play music, because he wrote the songs I play in the movie. He was a good composer, he played the songs on piano and I had to transfer them to guitar and sometimes we would just do music and talk, and he got more relaxed with me.
We never did rehearsals before the shoot and he only wanted to do one take. His way of making movies was long shots and one take because he wanted actors to be very fresh and not to repeat themselves. He loved accidents and would keep them.
So he never gave you specific direction?
Not at all. He would spend lots of time with the actors before the shoot, to get to know them and be comfortable with them and he wanted them to know the text, because he wanted actors to say exactly what he wrote. After this period of adaptation and getting to know each other he would give you freedom.
One of the first times I came to his office he put on the radio very loud, went to the kitchen and yelled at me “Melvil, can you say the text?”, because he knew we’d shoot at the beach, with no clothes on, and it would be very loud and we would record the sound just with a boom mike, so he wanted us to be audible. That was one of his fears.
Was shooting on location like a vacation? Everyone in the film looks so relaxed.
Absolutely, because we shot in the summer time. It was funny, because even though there were a lot of people on the beach ,no one really looked at the camera. Éric was worried about this, but there were only like four people in the crew. He was funny because he was all white, so he would put on a lot of sunscreen…but anyway, people probably thought “what is this strange guy doing here?” but then they would just ignore us. Éric would then just make a little sign to let people know he was shooting and then no one would look at the camera.
After working with him did you go revisit his work to try and like it?
Yeah, I went back and looked at his films and I was always very impressed because he always stuck to reality. And then of course there was this incredible writing, incredible dialogues, every scene leads to another scene, he created suspense out of emotions and the way people behave, so beyond these natural aesthetics, there is something much more precise and stylish, the framing, the light. Every single shot for him is a piece of work. Everything was very well thought.
Rohmer was a film theorist, would he talk to you about films or mention references he’d use in this movie?
No, he was very shy. Sometimes he would mention a painting, or music. He really loved Middle Age music, a lot of his influences came from this era; the pictures, the paintings, the colors, it was all inspired by this time. Even these songs that once were performed by sailors.
For me he was like a child, I remember one time at the premiere of his friend Claude Chabrol’s La Ceremonie, there was a big event so he felt like he had to go, even though he hated the crowds, he was very antisocial. So he was nervous, biting his nails and he escaped back to his hotel after the premiere, so I come back and he was watching the dailies and I ask him “what are you doing?” and he said “I just wanted to check something.” He had become so excited by his friend’s film that he went back to try and see if his movie would be better, he was like a child that way.
Did you keep in touch with him after working with him?
Yes, because I married his niece. He was the godfather of my wife. He was very close to my ex-wife’s parents, so I saw him at my wedding. I wrote a book two years ago and I talk about him in there, but the book hasn’t been translated into English.
You also had a two-decade long collaborative relationship with Raul Ruiz. Can you talk about that?
Yes, but that was very different. I was raised by Raúl Ruiz, I started working with him when I was ten and I did over 12 movies with him, so our relationship was more like being family. I felt closer to him than I ever did to Rohmer, because I knew he was much more fascinated by young girls, anyway. I’m not sure he enjoyed hanging out with guys. I always felt he was more in his world when he was surrounded by women.
I’m happy that I was part of his work, but I was not a typical Rohmer hero.
Having worked with some of the world’s best directors, have you had the urge to direct your own films?
Yes but mostly experimental movies. Ruiz took me to his movies and he impressed me so much with his work, that even now after his death, I watch a lot of his films. I’m always digging into his work. We do an event in London, at the Serpentine Gallery where the curator is a big fan of Ruiz, so we do a special event there where we show his work.
There was something in Raúl’s work that hasn’t been seen yet, I feel people will rediscover his work. He wrote books about cinema that are absolutely incredible. For me Raúl was a thinker, while Rohmer was traditional French, kind of old fashioned in a way. Raúl was much more surrealistic and adventurous.
What are you currently working on?
I did a movie in China that I’m supposed to finish in October, with the great Fan Bingbing, it’s a period movie where I play a Jesuit and she plays the Empress of China. I did a movie in Bulgaria, where I was the only actor and the rest of the cast were gangsters and hookers, so it’s an interesting combination of fiction and reality. The next movie I’m doing in June is directed by Philippe Ramos and is called Capitaine Achab, and I play a schizophrenic priest.
Are you planning on doing any more English features?
I’d love to. I did two movies in England, one called 44 Inch Chest with Ray Winstone, John Hurt and Ian McShane, but it was very, very English so I’m not sure if it was shown in America. I also did The Broken with Sean Ellis and I had a little part in Speed Racer I loved the Wachowski brothers and this is a very special little film.
by Lamb L.
Acclaimed director of the Roger Ebert doc “Life Itself” STEVE JAMES (Hoop Dreams) sits down for a conversation with Odie Henderson of RogerEbert.com. Excerpted in full:
In 1994, Roger Ebert wrote about Steve James’ “Hoop Dreams”-“A film like “Hoop Dreams” is what the movies are for. It takes us, shakes us, and make us think in new ways about the world around us. It gives us the impression of having touched life itself.” He had no idea that, 20 years later, the director of that film would be the filmmaker behind the movie based on Roger’s memoir, titled with the same phrase that Roger used to describe “Hoop Dreams”-“Life Itself.” The director sat down for an interview in New York City last month.
“Life itself” opens on July 4th in several markets, including here in NYC, and on iTunes and Video on Demand. Is this the version that played at Cannes or the one that played at Sundance?
This is the Cannes version. It basically has a 4-minute section devoted to Roger’s 40-year history of going to Cannes. I think it’s a really great addition to it, because it’s not just fun, although it has a lot of laughs in it. It’s also insightful, because it helps you understand even more why Gene was afraid Roger would leave him behind. Roger did all these Cannes things by himself-he wrote all these pieces from Cannes-and he loved doing it.
I wonder why Gene didn’t go with Roger.
Gene didn’t like going to festivals. I don’t know about his actual Cannes history, but I don’t believe he went there many times. Roger, of course, religiously went to Sundance, Telluride, Toronto and Cannes. Gene’s rationale, as I understand it, was that he wanted to maintain this distance from the filmmakers. Roger didn’t have that same concern. I also think they had a different way in which they engaged with film. Roger lived and breathed it in a way that Gene was proud to say he didn’t.
Speaking of Cannes, let’s talk about “Life Itself”‘s memorable glitch at the Cannes screening. [Note: The Cannes screening was delayed for over 20 minutes when the film suddenly stopped.] Roger was fascinated by technology, especially when it went catastrophically awry. I’m a computer programmer, so Roger and I rarely corresponded about movies. Instead, he always wanted to know when my software demos blew up. I had a lot of stories to tell him, because demos always explode. I was wondering if you knew Roger dug when technology went on the fritz, and if so, did that cross your mind when the Cannes screening went “pffft!”
[Laughs] I didn’t know that! I did think about his reaction after the fact-I’m sure Chaz thought about it during the glitch-and I think, because he loved Cannes so much, that he would have initially been amused by it. Because it went out a minute after the Cannes footage…
…as if it were planned.
Yes! And, it actually happened-pure coincidence-when a guy got up and left. I don’t think he left due to indignity or whatever. He probably had something else to do. He walked out at the front of the theater, and as soon as he walked in front of the screen, the movie went off.
Like he’d kicked out the plug.
That was my first reaction! “Is the plug down there? What the hell?” I think Roger would have been amused by the timing. I was kind of amused at first. And the lights came up immediately, so I thought “oh, they’re dealing with it.” I didn’t know that [the theater] was on a system, so when the screen went off, the lights were set to automatically come up. There was nobody up there in the booth. That part would have made Roger quite angry. He would have cut somebody a new one for that.
Chaz was quick-thinking. She dragged me down to the stage and we did this impromptu Q&A. And all the time during the Q&A, I’m looking up in the booth and I see nothing going on. And we have people out looking for someone. So, I think at that point, Roger would have been infuriated.
It would have made for a great Cannes dispatch from him.
It would have made for an amazing article! At Cannes, of all festivals! But the way it ended-about half of the audience remained with us until the end–the crowd gave us one of the sweetest, most heartfelt ovations I’ve ever experienced at a movie I’ve made. It was really touching, as if we’d all been through something together.
“Life Itself” has been screened all over the world. I’ve been to three screenings in the U.S. so far. It just played AFI Docs on Saturday night, alongside a documentary about General Tso’s Chicken.
I saw that in the listings.
I was curious about that documentary, but it was sold out so I didn’t make the trek down to D.C. I shouldn’t be talking about somebody else’s movie at your interview, though!
[Laughs]
You mentioned Cannes, but is there a particular screening that resonated with you, that really stuck with you as the quintessential screening of Life Itself?
I think the quintessential screening, without doubt, would be the Ebertfest screening. I mean, 1,200 people were there celebrating Roger.
You know, in the process of making this film, we’d do these little impromptu test screenings where we’d gather 20 or 30 people over at Kartemquin to help us make the film clearer, or to see what’s working/not working. We discovered early on in those screenings how much laughter there was going to be in this movie. There were a lot of laugh-out-loud moments. So we began to tweak the timings around the moments we knew would generate real laughs, so that there was enough space [for them]. Someone might say something in the film that was of no great consequence, so if you missed it, it was no big deal. But we noticed that some important things were being missed because of laughter. So we calibrated this for the audience, which you need to do when you have the luxury of this kind of response.
At Ebertfest, people were missing stuff because there were waves of laughter that kept on going. But here it really didn’t matter. It went from this raucous laughter to dead silence, and sniffling, and emotion.
And then, for it to be in hometown, and at his festival. All of that made it the most special screening.
But I’d have to give a second-place shout-out to the Sundance premiere screening. Because I’ve had films at Sundance before, but that was the best screening I ever had. The audience response was like a mini-version of Ebertfest’s response. The audience was with it from the first frame to the last, and it felt like people were there to celebrate Roger and to mourn him.
All your films are superbly edited. What I find fascinating about them is that they have the arc of the best fiction, which is impressive as you have no control over reality; you have to play the hand that you’re dealt. How do you approach that? With Roger’s book, you had kind of a blueprint for “Life Itself.” Did that make your approach any different than, say “Hoop Dreams” or “The Interrupters?”
It did. It definitely made a difference. I really love the way Roger structured the book. It is a man looking back on his life from this vantage point of “here I am now. I can no longer speak or eat, and my life is very different.” And there is this flood of memories. Yet it is informed by life in the present, which he comes back to from time to time. The book is largely linear but not exclusively. I love that about the book.
And so I thought that was a great template, structurally, for approaching the movie. It meant following Roger in the present, to see what his daily life is now. And I’m always fascinated with that anyway, because even if it’s not some big momentous thing going on, just witnessing people in their daily lives can be quite revealing.
So in that sense, the present-day part is more like what I’m used to in my films, which is to follow people. And, as in true in my other films, what happened was unexpected. When we started filming, we did not expect Roger to pass away in four months. And so, that part of the film took on a life of its own, and it made the film about more than what I’d set out to make it. It also made it a film about “how do you die, and how do you do it with courage, with dignity and with humor?”
Roger had a morbid sense of humor, as Chaz points out in the movie. He seems to be enjoying this, giving it the thumbs-up at one point.
Yeah. He says “what kind of third act would it be if I just died suddenly?” I thought, “what an amazing thing for him to say.” One moment I really like is when I say “it makes for a better story” and he gives me this approving look. And it’s not facile. It’s not shallow to me at all. It’s kind of the way he lived his life. He embraced it all, and this part is just another act.
OK, it’s time for the grad school question. I wrote this one down.
[Laughs]
To me, your films focus on how people impact a particular system and vice versa. For example, The Interrupters step in to challenge and diffuse situations that cyclically would lead to violence. In “Hoop Dreams,” the system of basketball, as a means to a better life outside a neighborhood not unlike my own growing up, affects Arthur and William profoundly. In “Life Itself,” Roger the critic throws a monkey wrench into the critical thought process that says an emotional response to a movie is invalid. There’s kind of a cybernetic approach to your subjects. Is that a conscious decision on your part, or is this merely something I read into your films because this is the “grad school question”?
This is my favorite question of the day so far.
So I guess I actually got something out of going to grad school.
[Laughs] You know, what I’ve found out over the years is that I don’t generally set out to do that. With “Hoop Dreams,” I set out to do a film about what basketball means to young people like Arthur and William. That was the original impetus. And not necessarily young kids, but African-American ball players whom I’d had as teammates, played pick-up ball with. As much as I’d loved the dream [of basketball success], and I felt in my own whitebread way that I’d had the dream as strong as one could have it. But I also knew that it wasn’t the same for me as it was for some of the African-American teammates I’d had, or players who came from where you came from, for example. And so I wanted to understand that better.
I didn’t know Arthur and William at this point. But I didn’t set out to do an expose on the business of basketball and how the system reaches down. I really wanted it to be more of a “why does this game mean so much?” And I knew it would take us into places like poverty and lack of opportunity and social issues. But that wasn’t what hooked me initially. It was on a more personal level of why the game meant so much, why it is so important, and to go on that journey.
With “The Interrupters,” I read Alex Kotlowitz’s article, and what we both were taken with is how these individuals who once were part of the problem were now trying to fix something that, in their own way, they had created. And they’re trying to save themselves, not just save other people. And so it was very personal, and that was the hook.
And so over the years, I’ve found that I am drawn to personal stories that resonate for me in various ways. And what I’ve found is the reason why they resonate with me. They have something larger to say to us about the world we live in. They have something larger to say about those systems, or about race, or about class, or about criminal justice. In the case of a film like “Stevie,” when a person commits the crime that he did, do we as a society just throw them away, or do we try to save them? What is our obligation to them? But I don’t interview a bunch of experts to weigh in or to pontificate. I try to get at these things through the individual’s stories.
With Roger’s story, I didn’t know what I originally set out to do. I was just taken by his extraordinary life, and that he had had this incredible life journey that informed the way in which he wrote film criticism and that shaped the type of critic he was. If he hadn’t had this fascinating, incredible life journey, I probably wouldn’t have made the film despite admiring him as a film critic.
The personal stories angle kind of leads to my next question. You have a scene with Ava DuVernay, with whom I was on a panel last year at the Off Plus Camera Film Festival in Poland-of all places! She talks about how she entrusted her African-American themed film, “I Will Follow,” to Roger to spread the word about it, much like “Hoop Dreams” was in a way entrusted to Roger as well. I was glad you kept that scene in “Life Itself,” because it raises an interesting notion about whose stories get told in the cinema, and whether those stories get recognized or seen by audiences. Siskel and Ebert were always pointing out these little films on their show, and Roger carried the torch of the under-seen little film until he passed, both in his reviews and on social media. Do you think that social media has picked up Roger’s mission of pointing out these films?
Well, I’m no expert on social media because I’m not even on Twitter, fortunately, or unfortunately. I do understand a little bit about Instagram because a friend of mine told me that Roger Wolfson, another Roger in the business, markets his content through the site and suggested maybe I do the same but with more “oomph”. My friend’s always talking about different ways to grow his audience. Recently, he settled on using social media growth tools such as nitreo to extend his online presence.
Fortunately.
I went on Twitter literally for two minutes. I signed up after being browbeaten by the Twitter king at Kartemquin. I signed up, got one follower and said “I can’t do this” and cancelled the account. But I do think there’s an important role for social media. I don’t think it rises to the level of Roger Ebert when it comes to promoting films, and Roger as you know became a master at using social media. He even knows how to get free instagram followers with socialfollow, but that just sounds like a different language to me!
Yeah. He twisted my arm and made me use it. Said I should use it for “shameless self-promotion.”
Did he really? Well, I think he understood something about the contemporary world and contemporary technology, and the disconnect that can happen between us, and social media can be a bastardized version of that in some ways. But it can also be a very powerful and positive influence as well. It removes the gatekeepers. When Hoop Dreams came out 20 years ago, we were beholden to a distributor that was willing to spend a significant amount of money to get it out there. We were beholden to the traditional press outlets to embrace the film and write about it, otherwise no one would go see it or even hear about it. And that’s not true anymore.
Three years ago, “The Interrupters” made a perfect example. Here was a film where no money was spent putting the word out there. Yet thanks to social media, to Facebook and Twitter, to people writing about it on their blogs and saying “you should see this.” Because of all that, it played in 75 markets with no money spent. So I think there’s much to be said about social media…even if I’m not on Twitter!
Stay off it! One last question: Roger always beat up the MPAA for inexplicably and hypocritically applying their ratings. I try to carry the torch for this on RogerEbert.com. “Life Itself” is rated R, and I had to rack my brain to figure out why. Did you expect it? And what do you think Roger would have thought of this?
Roger wouldn’t have liked it. It’s because of a shot of bare breasts and a few uses of the word “fuck.” It’s the way the MPAA is. I thought, for a minute, “should we put up a big fight over this?” I realized I just don’t have the energy and time to do it. But if you wanted to write about it, that would be a beautiful thing. Because it is ridiculous.
It is ridiculous. So, kids, sneak into “Life Itself!”
That’ll give us some cachet!
by Lamb L.
L.A. Times film business reporter JOHN HORN recently filed an intriguing post about where branding and filmmaking meets environmental activism. We’ve excerpted it below and can also be originally found here.
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by John Horn
Patagonia is famous for its high-end outdoor gear, selling its 3-in-1 River Salt Jacket for $549 and a Special Edition Diamond Quilt Snap-T Pullover for $199. In the coming weeks, the luxe retailer will begin stocking a very different item on its shelves: DVDs of “DamNation,” Patagonia’s self-financed and award-winning environmental documentary.
“DamNation” producer and underwater photographer Matt Stoecker emerges from the icy tail waters below the former Elwha Dam in a scene from the movie “DamNation.” (Ben Knight / DamNation Collection / September 18, 2011)Long admired as one of the most socially accountable companies in America, Patagonia in recent years has become more of an outspoken advocate for environmental and corporate responsibility, letting shoppers openly inspect its supply and manufacturing chain and even encouraging potential customers to stop buying its products and recycle, repair and reuse the clothes they already possess.
“DamNation,” the first film the company has produced, takes Patagonia’s activism to a higher level, and its release will be linked to a petition urging the federal government to tear down what Patagonia calls “deadbeat dams.”
The movie opens in limited release theatrically May 9 in New York and Portland, Ore., debuting in Los Angeles on May 16. “DamNation” will be screened for free in and for sale at most of Patagonia’s 30 retail outlets on June 5, where the DVD will be listed at $24.99 (or $29.99 for a Blu-ray version). A day later, “DamNation” will become available on the streaming site Vimeo for $9.99.
Patagonia is supporting the documentary’s release with an extensive social media campaign that hopes to take advantage of the company’s fervent (if not well-heeled) fans, hosting scores of word-of-mouth screenings for organizations such as the Arkansas Canoe Club, Los Padres ForestWatch and Hells Canyon Preservation Council.
“We’re not going to be getting any money back on this,” said Patagonia’s 75-year-old founder, Yvon Chouinard, whose privately held company bankrolled the film’s approximate $500,000 budget and more expensive marketing push. “It’s just propaganda.”
“DamNation,” which suggests that the more than 80,000 American dams do far more ecological harm than good, is hardly a conservationist diatribe. Directed by Ben Knight and Travis Rummel, the thoroughly researched documentary has won top awards at the South by Southwest Film Conference and Festival and the Environmental Film Festival in Washington, D.C. Early reviews have been enthusiastic.
Made over the course of three years, “DamNation” argues contrary to popular belief that hydroelectric power isn’t environmentally clean or efficient, that reservoirs formed by dams release vast amounts of harmful methane (owing to decomposing organic material underwater) and that costly fish ladders and hatcheries scarcely mitigate the damage dams cause to spawning wild salmon. Dams ostensibly built to boost recreational opportunities, furthermore, don’t necessarily permit the same, as the filmmakers find out when they kayak up to one dam’s navigable locks and are assumed to be domestic terrorists.
The movie’s on-screen partisans, who include former Secretary of the Interior Bruce Babbitt, recommend that the most responsible action is to tear down several large dams and let nature and the subsequently unstopped rivers follow their natural courses. “DamNation” chronicles how quickly Chinook salmon return after the sizable Elwha Dam in Washington is demolished.
Those who want to preserve dams say they play a critical role in flood control, maintain the water supply and benefit shipping and recreation. Supporters furthermore argue that dams not only generate necessary and relatively clean energy but also provide work for people who would become unemployed if the dams were removed.
Chouinard said he became focused on the downside of dams when Patagonia tried to reverse the ecological demise of the Ventura River, not far from the company’s Southern California headquarters. Chouinard in the late 1990s used Patagonia’s name and money in newspaper ads to advocate for the removal of the Edwards Dam on Maine’s Kennebec River; it was torn down in 1999, and the native ecosystem gradually has been restored.
“That’s the reason I’m in business,” said Chouinard, an avid fly fisherman who recently returned from a fishing trip to British Columbia. “I couldn’t care less about making more money or making more clothes. I want to use business to inspire solutions to the environmental crisis.”
He said he was inspired to make the movie out of frustration with the political process. “You can write letters to your elected officials all day long but they don’t even read them,” Chouinard said.
At the 2011 Wild & Scenic Film Festival in Nevada City, Calif., Chouinard started talking with Matt Stoecker, an environmental activist committed to freeing rivers. “We were talking about the need to show the destruction caused by dams and the amazing things that happen when you remove a dam — including seeing a salmon jump up a river where a dam used to be,” Stoecker said. Just like coal-fired power plants, Stoecker said, dams were an idea eclipsed by progress. “It was time to phase them out.”
Chouinard and Stoecker’s timing was propitious, as three large dams were about to be razed, which had the potential of turning an inherently uncinematic topic — large cement structures that simply sit there — into a visual story. But Chouinard and Stoecker, who served as one of the film’s producers and directed its underwater photography, struggled to find a willing documentarian.
Knight, who with Rummel had made smaller films about fishing, had two immediate concerns: He saw no way to make the issue compelling, and he worried about becoming a Patagonia shill.
“Our first instinct was no, and we told them so,” Knight said. “It was just too daunting, and it just seemed too difficult to humanize a story about dams. And it’s not every day that a clothing company comes out to say it wants to make a documentary.”
As they kept considering the topic, though, Knight and Rummel were drawn to the idea of following a dam’s destruction, and using that event as the film’s organizing principle. “We thought, at least there’s a beginning and an end,” said Knight, who narrates “DamNation.”
They were promised editorial independence from Chouinard but then had to figure out a way to film the dams.
“We honestly had to do a lot of sneaking around,” Knight said. “Dams are really unwelcoming places.”
He said that even without Patagonia looking over his shoulder, he was mortified when he and Rummel showed up in their kayaks wearing matching hoodies made by the company — “We bought them,” Knight said, “as they didn’t send us free clothing once” — which made it look like they were promoting the clothing. “But it’s not a branded movie by any stretch,” Knight said.
Chouinard said “DamNation” ultimately builds on what almost every child was taught by his or her parent. “If you make a mess, you clean it up. You don’t just walk away from it,” he said. The time has come, he said, to tear down, rather than build, more dams.
“I hope this film leads to a revolution,” Chouinard said. “A revolution about how we think about our water, and how we think about our rivers.”
Copyright © 2014, Los Angeles Times