Of sense and nonsense

Obsolete films (the film production company that Mona and I run) have two short films "in the can". Yes, it is true. Mona and I have finished to short subjects that we are very proud of. Typewriter at 5 minutes, was conceived, shot and edited in a 24 hour period. Essentially little more than a fun romp through the "60's Miami" inspired architecture of West Vancouver. People have really responded to it. Departures at 9 minutes, is a meditation on the strains of teenage friendship/love. This was a year and a half in the making but we are finally free of it and ever so proud. This one takes a little more to get your head around but this is really the mood and the tone we are going for when we do our feature. These two films both star the radiant Bianca Versteeg; our own personal Monica Vitti. Departures also stars longtime collaborator Terry Stewart, who gets all the best lines. Typewriter Co-stars non-actor, software genius and all-American indie aficionado Ken Milne. We are packaging up and sending them off to several film fests; from Portland to Pusan.

In a couple of days David and I will have completed our third promo for the superdogs documentary. This one clocks in at 7 minutes (the other two were 2 and 10 minutes). We will then be sending it off to the BBC, Sundance Channel, CNN and of course the mothership: CBC.


Also, that crazy Thai (Pen-Ek Ratanaruang) who brought us Last life in the Universe has a new movie coming out soon. It's called Invisible Waves and he's once again paired up with Asano (actor) and Doyle (Godhead cinematographer). Saw the trailer and it looks like another stunner. Twitch gives it a great review so that's saying something. Go to the site.

Power, Corruption and Lies

No, I am not talking politics here but something far more soul enhancing: music. I know it's a little late for this revelation but the New Order album Power, Corruption and lies is a serious piece o' work. Ever since I started doing research for my new screenplay, I've been listening to it. It first re-emerged into my conscious through the gloriously anachronistic trailer for Marie Antoinette. The song age of consent was stuck in my craw for a good week...

"I'm not the kind that likes to tell you just what you want me to"

The aforementioned screenplay I am working on takes place in 1983 so I'm collecting all sorts of mainstream and underground songs from that era. This album by New Order is the idyllic transition piece between the techno-popers they would be and the doom-meisters that were Joy Division. All this and Anton Corbijn has just started filming the Ian Curtis Bio-pic. No better time to revel in the dark tones of these brilliant Mancunians.

Songs such as Your Silent Face, 5 8 6, The Village and Blue Monday (ubiquitous for years after it's intial release) really capture the other side of the 80's -- free of pastel polo shirts, rampant comsumerism and tanning beds. Through necessity this album still had a lot of the human touch that makes music really hit you. Unfortunately as technology evolved they went on to be a slave to "the midi". You can only be this great for one album, things are gonna change and usually not for the better. When so many teens are counting on you, you're bound to make a few missteps. At the time though I thought they were humming along nicely. Twenty some years on, their output in the mid 80's feels as sterile as a GP's rubber glove.

It's good that I still look back on my teenage years with some fondness, not just embarassment and shame. Hell, the screenplay will be all the better for it.

Fitting into your proper aspect ratio

Inspired by the movies Capote and Good Night, and Good Luck, Steven Spielberg now wants to make a low budget movie. What is it about the allure of independence that has made him step out of his cozy abode to throw his hat into the ring? I want to explore the ramifications of such a scheme. Are Hollywood heavyweights really interested in putting forth evocative messages or are they just working themselves up into a lather by the titular ecstasy of becoming an Indie-filmmaker?

He says he was willing to make Memoirs of a Geisha for 10 million in Japan with subtitles. As a matter of public record we know that another director (Rob Marshall) ended up making the movie that became a critical and financial disaster. It alienated fans of the book as well as Chinese and Japanese audiences.

While watching extra features on the THX 1138 DVD I listened to George Lucas talk about how glad he was to be done with the Star Wars movies so he could finally focus on doing his non-linear, low-budget personal films.

What up?

Open letter to Spielberg and Lucas,

or

Lucasberg, you ruined Hollywood and now you want to ruin independent cinema. Step off, you shallow fucks.

Stay the hell away from independent cinema. We don’t need you. We have our own institutions, sacred cows and wellsprings of talent. All slots are full and we’re doing fine without you. Further, you can keep your CGI because it’s not helping to bring forward our evocative images in a meaningful way. What we will do though is let you co-opt our style in about five years or so because that’s how long it’ll take you to realize how cool our style is. By then we’ll have moved onto something else that interests us. So, yes, we’ll give you our tired old acid wash jeans at that time.

Remember that movie where Harrison Ford lived in some jungle with his family. He gets a bone-headed idea that ice is like that greatest thing in the world. Similar to what you thought when you saw all these indie films winning Oscars this year. Anyways, in the jungle is this godless tribe that has never seen ice. Ford’s character believes they need some ice. Stat. His first attempt is to bring these needy tribesmen an ice machine. That turns out to be a friggin’ disaster. Then, he decides to take them a huge block of ice. It’s wrapped up but the heat’s too much and the tribesmen end up with a dribble of dirty water. They are less than jazzed.

We thought it was funny how you cast Tom Cruise (as Tom Cruise) and the Colin Farrell (essentially a young Tom Cruise) in a Philip K. Dick story, Minority Report. We thought it was funny because Tom and Colin are such Hollywood types and, really, the antithesis of the types you would find in a K. Dick experience. When Scanner Darkly comes out you’ll see how even Keanu can appeal to the Keanu-phobic (this word may already be on Wikipedia). Further, you’ll see how Linklater, who is considered a truly independently-minded filmmaker, can spend 15 million and made it look like 150 million yet keep all the paranoia and humor of the novel. But when you see it, you won’t be able to admit that it’s a better movie than your precious Minority Report but that’s because you aren’t able to stretch beyond your own predictableness. No one will change your minds. What the both of you don’t realize is, it’s about D-I-R-E-C-T-I-N-G, not biding your time until you get the creature pre-visualizations from your effects. But you can relax fellas. With all the stuff flying around the big screen they won’t notice you couldn’t get a handle on your character.

I have more hope for you, Lucas, as you’ve already made three great movies - American Graffiti, Star Wars: episode 4 and THX 1138. But you aren’t 25 anymore and nowadays a lot of people are directly dependent on your computer rendered hand. This responsibility to the unions and to your 12+ plus work days only add to the budget and if the audience can’t see or hear the difference, they can’t feel it. Lucas, you’ve great visual style, a great grasp of mythology and an unparalleled imagination. However, you’re a terrible dramatic director (“faster and with more intensity” doesn’t exactly help to rally the troops now does it?) and have no ear for dialogue. Unfortunately, these are the two things that all great filmmakers must possess even after you strip away the millions of dollars of artifice.

Mr. Close Encounter, you bemoan that the studio wouldn’t let you do Memoirs of A Geisha the way you wanted to (for 10 Million with subtitles in Japan) so you didn’t direct it though you were happy enough to take the cash to produce it. Even though I love hearing Asians speak in bad English accents I consider this technique the highest form of Comedy, not Drama. Maybe wait before buying that island you’ve been eyeing (the one just beside Richard Branson’s) and instead bankroll something you believe in, and then we might talk. But I have a feeling we cineastes still won’t be impressed when we see your low-rent labour of love finally flickering on the screen. It’ll be a labour to watch we are sure of that.

And, really, I just want to tell you both that you’re doing just fine. You don’t need us.

Keep on keepin’ on and keep your hands off my power supply.

All for now.

Signed,
Rube Lubener
Belly of the Cineaste