SVFF 2013: SCREENWRITERS LAB—Will McCormack's We Are Puppets

Photo courtesy of the Sun Valley Film Festival

When Sun Valley Film Festival (SVFF) Executive Director Teddy Grennan asked 2013 Spirit Award nominee Will McCormack if he had written anything new since Celeste and Jesse Forever (2012)—a film he produced and co-wrote with Rashida Jones—McCormack told him he'd just finished a sad, dramatic comedy but it was kind of long, 110 pages, whereas another project, We Are Puppets, a strange pilot he'd written for cable, was only 36 minutes. Calculating a minute per page, McCormack admitted the script was weird and that if we hated it, it would soon be over.

"Quickly," he added, "I've been an actor for a long time too and every actor has bombed hundreds of auditions, which is a rite of passage. It's just part of being an actor. But as a writer when you go in and you bomb, it hurts, because an audition's only 5 minutes whereas a pitch for a movie or a TV show is, hopefully, 30-40 minutes. I can say this because I don't care anymore, but I went into HBO with my co-writer Rashida Jones and we started pitching this. I really loved the idea and was really involved with it but they were not into it. I was in a full broadcast news flop sweat—I don't even sweat when I exercise!—but I kept trying to convince them about why it was good and why I thought it would make good television."

When the script for the pilot reached its startling reveal, McCormack was expecting HBO to say, "Oh, my God, that's so good!" but instead it was more like, "Oooooh, that's so weird." So he went to Showtime the next day with the same exact pitch and they bought it in the room. They were even pitching episodes back to him. For him it was one of those funny moments in the business where one day you're a go and you sell your pilot and you're running around excited in the parking lot at Showtime, successful for 5 minutes. And then Showtime decided not to launch it.

So We Are Puppets became the script McCormack offered SVFF for their first-ever screenwriting lab. He thanked the actors in advance for helping him collaborate on the reading and assured us he would not be offended if we didn't like it, and/or that he would be happy to respond to any questions we might have about the script, and to share whatever he knew or didn't know about screenwriting since, sadly, it's all he thinks about. He said he'd be equally happy to talk about what it takes to get an independent film made, from the vantage of having written big movies for the studios, as well as "little movies." As a final caveat he disclaimed, "Because, inherently, screenplays and teleplays were meant to be seen, they're just like blueprints, we'll do our best to pace it up and make sure you can hear it so that, hopefully, you can visualize this very strange pilot called We Are Puppets."

McCormack and his fellow actors, several from SVFF work-in-progress An Unkindness of Ravens (2013)—namely Joshua Leonard, Russell Friedenberg and Calum Grant—as well as Haroula Rose and Daniel Ahearn from No Love Song, a short slotted into one of two programs of shorts at SVFF, joined five other actors to deliver a thoroughly spirited and engaging read after only one rehearsal earlier in the morning.

Photo courtesy of the Sun Valley Film Festival

Afterwards, McCormack fielded questions from his SVFF audience. As to why he elected to propose We Are Puppets as a cable series rather than a film, McCormack explained that the themes he found interesting seemed more readily explored over the course of a series and better suited for a series, whereas—by contrast—movies require a scriptwriter to tell a story in 100 pages, which can be really hard. Although Showtime decided not to make the series after buying the pilot, they were looking into getting it produced overseas in France; but, ultimately, McCormack decided not to go that way, satisfied with how he had grown as a writer in scripting the pilot.

A fan of puppets, particularly The Muppets, McCormack felt that a Sesame Street-type of puppet world would have been an interesting and fertile place for storytelling. He had also seen a 2008 documentary on BBC America called Brothers and Sisters In Love, which he found moving and heartbreaking. He researched genetic sexual attraction (GSA) and discovered that 60% of men and women who meet their siblings as adults fall in love. Not only is incest illegal in many places but there is an inordinate amount of shame associated with it. With an admirable lack of judgment—"Who am I to say it's wrong? Love is love, right?"—McCormack zeroed in on the narrative potential of GSA as a transgressive love story that would ask the question: "Would you? Or wouldn't you? And if you could, could you stop it?"

At the same time he had been reading a lot about free will, desire and destiny, which naturally raised interesting questions. He read Schopenhauer and Sam Harris's books on the delusion of free will. Even though these fascinations may not have been a prominent theme in the pilot of We Are Puppets, they were certainly an undercurrent. McCormack questioned whether the thoughts, feelings and desires that arise within us can be stopped? All these various threads "crashed" together to form We Are Puppets.

"It strikes me," I asked, "that a lot of the most brave screenwriting going on these days is going towards television—HBO is certainly championing good writing, Showtime as well. Do you have any thoughts on the difference between writing for movies and writing for television?"

"I do," he responded. "It used to be that television was for kids and movies were for adults. But now it's movies are for kids and television is for adults. I grew up on movies and am movie-obsessed. I grew up near a video store and I was there every day. In college, I worked in a movie theater. I've worked on movies. I've had every kind of job on a movie—production assistant, craft service—I just love films. When I started writing professionally, even more as a hobby, I wrote movies. It's also interesting that in television you get more respect as a writer than you do as a filmwriter. There's more money. The process is quicker. It's expedited.

"Celeste and Jesse Forever we sold to Fox Atomic. They were going to make it for $15,000,000. They went out of business. We got the script back and sold it to Overture. They were going to make it for $12,000,000 but then they went out of business. We got the script back. It was set up 15 different times and the budget kept falling and falling and falling and finally we made it and we made a movie that we're proud of. We made it for under a $1,000,000 in Los Angeles. I still haven't gotten paid. It's a hard, hard, hard road. I was the bear in the movie. Know what I'm saying? It's the biz! And it's the best I've ever been. But it was so hard.

"I get offers to write and—if I had children—I might take them because everyone needs to make money and it's a blessing to write for a living. People will say, 'We want you to do that, but we want you to do it in a big studio way.' I'm like, 'No, you don't. You don't want that.' The movie that we made is so weird and small that it wouldn't work on a $40,000,000 budget. The sad part about the movie business is that those movies that I loved, those tweeners that are $12,000,000 to $20,000,000 movies, are gone. The good news is that—because of technology and because cameras are better—you can make movies for cheaper, and you can get a hit, but no one makes any money. The longwinded version of that is that I think television is a place where you can really build characters and stories and take risks and chances in a way that you can't with movies and it's just getting more exciting. So, yes, television is a place where you don't have to censor or edit."

McCormack admitted that when he pitched We Are Puppets to Showtime, he was trying to be careful and suggested that when the two lead characters meet, they should just kiss and not have sex; but, Showtime said, "No, no, no, they should have sex." He was dumbstruck and asked them, "Are you serious?" They said, "100%." He thought, "All right. This is a good network. Thank you, guys." The bottom line McCormack ventured is that you can make a lot of money writing for television. "I'm not against it," McCormack qualified, "I don't. I'm picky about making a lot of money. I keep talking about it, but haven't. I'll probably just keep writing my puppet pilots that don't get made."

As to co-writing with Rashida Jones and getting in synch with someone else, McCormack laid out that Celeste and Jesse Forever was "a total two-hander." He and Rashida are best friends, after dating for three weeks in the '90s. "She made me cry," he quipped. He went on to say that he has been a writer his whole life, even though he had an enormous fear of being a legitimate writer and showing other people his writing. He recently found dozens of notebooks in his closet that were filled with writing about wanting to be a writer. The majority of time he spent writing was about wanting to write. He did this for most of his life. When he was little, people thought he was going to be a writer because he wrote a couple of stories in school that won grammar school awards. But he recalls being 8 years old and feeling under an enormous amount of pressure about his writing.

In college he started acting, which he gravitated towards during a difficult time in his life. It saved him. He wasn't terrible. He got parts in plays, got an agent, moved to New York where he performed in really good plays with good theater companies and had a little bit of success with acting, so he put the writing away. But he kept thinking about wanting to be a writer. His acting career was fine, but it wasn't great, and it started to feel feckless. He felt he was languishing as an actor and not connected to it in the way he started. He wanted to write and it just reached the point that he had to decide whether he was going to be a writer or just talk about it. So after he and Rashida broke up and became best friends as exes, they tried to write a pilot. At first he felt it was weird, and then decided it was not, and then it turned out to be weird. Then they wrote a movie.

He had taken a screenwriting class and written another movie before the one he wrote with Rashida; but, when they got together to write their movie, it was good because they held each others' hand. "Now I can't stop writing," he said, "and I write with people, I write without people, and I'm down for both. I'm a collaborator. I'm an actor so it's in my DNA. I ask, 'What do you think?' I'm good at that. If I'm good at anything, it's that I know how to collaborate. I'm not defensive. It's really about getting older and not caring whether people thought I was a good writer or not. It was a matter of wanting to tell a story."

But in terms of having a partner, McCormack suggested you have a good one and one you're not afraid to write badly with (though he qualified there's no such thing as "writing badly", even if one feels that way. For him, all writing is good writing. Even on the worst day of writing, if you've written it's a good day.) So he advised to find someone you can collaborate with and who you're not afraid to say anything in front of and for him that turned out to be Rashida, his good friend who was like a sister. He probably has more fun writing with someone, but gets more done alone.

Photo courtesy of The Hollywood Reporter

Asked what he would have wanted audiences to come away with had Showtime actually produced We Are Puppets as a series, McCormack compared it to the movie Splash and what happens when you fall in love with a mermaid. Do you go be with a mermaid or do you stay on shore where it's safe? He wanted people to ask that question: what would you do? He wanted people to think about what desire means because he's not convinced that we are in control of what we do. He understands that's not a popular thing to say; but, there's so much in We Are Puppets that is happening with the stars, and moons, and the way we're raised. When you come into the world, you have no choice as to where you're born, what sex you are, how big your brain is, how you are raised, how tall you are, and then all of a sudden you're 25 and you decide to make your life a certain way; but, before then, so much is happening that has formed you. Those are the questions he wanted people to think about. Mainly, at first, he thought We Are Puppets was a kind of tragic love story where someone falls in love with someone who society says you shouldn't fall in love with. So what would you do and—not just what would you do—but, what can you do?

Was there an autobiographical element to We Are Puppets? "I have a sister," McCormack grinned sheepishly. "Celeste and Jesse Forever was a lot from my own life but anything that I ever write comes from a real place. Everything that I would want to write—even this pilot, which is very strange and in a dream world—everything has to come from some sort of reality or truth. For me it's the only way. It's the way I've always acted, and it's the way I have to write. I try to be simple and clear and honest about what I'm going through. I could never write Avatar. I wish I could; I'd be so rich! But I just can't. For me the saddest and funniest and most interesting things come directly out of real life. The hard part is shedding light on that and making it filmic in some way and dramatic and making it into a narrative and making it interesting and concise. Life itself is a funny thing if I can get out of my head and experience it."

As a final query, local filmmaker Stephen Heleker asked McCormack if—since he is starting to steer his writing towards television—he would ever consider being a showrunner? "It's a lot of work," McCormack answered, "but to be a showrunner on television, you have total control. You're limited if it's on network; but, if you're Mike White (Enlightened) or Howard Gordon or Alex Gansa (Homeland), you get to make a very expensive tiny little movie every week. That's enormous freedom but enormous reponsibility. It would be awesome. I know people who come over from film to work on television and in every capacity—whether you're a writer or director or actor—it's a lot of work that never ends.

"My sister is a great actress, Mary McCormack, and she had a TV show on USA called In Plain Sight where she played a marshal with a gun and she was amazing; but, she has three daughters and works 16-17 hour days. She sees her kids when they come to the set to visit. It's a grueling life. As with anything, if you want to be an actor or a writer or work in this business, you have to really want to do it because it's so enervating. There's so much failure and disappointment that you have to say, 'I have to do this. I really want to do this.' Because often it's just so much work. But it's a great thing to be a showrunner. Some people are happy being staff writers but most people who are working as staff writers are waiting for the opportunity to run their own show."

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Calum Grant, Daniel Ahearn, Haroula Rose, Joshua Leonard, Mary McCormack, Rashida Jones, Russell Friedenberg, Sagebush, Sam Harris, Stephen Heleker, SVFF, Will McCormack,

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SVFF 2013: HOT SHOT STUDENT FILMS—The Evening Class Interview With Hemingway Elementary School Teacher Scott Slonim

In early January, the Sun Valley Film Festival (SVFF) actively sought submissions for its new Hot Shot film category dedicated to filmmakers under age 18. Films of any type, feature, documentary, or short were welcomed. "We wanted to support and encourage young filmmakers on their journey into this business," said Ted Grennan, Executive Director of SVFF, "so we added the new Hot Shot film award category this year to recognize their efforts." Grennan confirmed when we spoke that SVFF tried to model the spirit of the festival on the family-friendly spirit of the Valley.

Of the 13 entries accepted into SVFF for the Hot Shots line-up, Skating Partners and Time Travelling Kids were from Ketchum's Hemingway Elementary School, so I phoned Teacher-Advisor Scott Slonim to congratulate he and his Fifth Grade Class on their achievement.

* * *

Scott Slonim: Thank you!  The kids are so excited.

Michael Guillén: Tell me about Hemingway Elementary.

Slonim: We're part of the Blaine County school system, which includes four elementary schools between Bellevue, Hailey and Ketchum, and there's a fifth one a little farther away in Carey.

Guillén: Is this student filmmaking program common to all the elementary schools or particular to Hemingway?

Slonim: My class is named "Engineering Technology" and so I get to teach all the kids in the school from kindergarten through Fifth Grade. The Engineering Technology curriculum is broad. There are so many different things a student can do. They can pick something and if it fits they can go deeper into it. But to answer your question, all the schools do video of some sort.

Guillén: You're in charge of this activity at Hemingway and it sounds as if you've enthused your students in such a way that they're producing competitive product?

Slonim: It's available at all the schools but at Hemingway we tend to do the video well; whereas at Bellevue they tend to a little more NASA.

Guillén: How long have you been with Hemingway?

Slonim: This is my eighth year.

Guillén: And how did this program get started with you at the helm?

Slonim: During my first year at Hemingway, Picabo Street (the Olympic gold-winning skier) was doing commercials for Chapstick and she heard about a program called Panasonic Kid Witness News (KWN) and asked, "Why isn't my school in this program?" This program had a long waiting list to get into but suddenly we were being called up and asked if we wanted to be in it. So Picabo helped our school get involved with Panasonic who gave us a camera, a microphone, and some other equipment and invited us to be in their program. The next year we made our first videos. I'd never made a video before. I really didn't know what I was doing.

Guillén: How fun!

Slonim: It was fun. The kids made three different videos that they wrote and produced. They did everything; all I did was oversee the project. We won one of the categories in the Panasonic contest and that took us to New York City, paid for by Panasonic. That's when we started entering contests.

Guillén: So you've been submitting videos into contests across the country?

Slonim:This is our seventh year entering the KWN contest. As I find other appropriate film contests for my students, we'll either make a new video to enter or use an old one that's already made and submit that one. The year after we won KWN, we made a video for a site called eSchool News and we won that one as well, which allowed us to take three girls to Washington, D.C., paid for by eSchool News.

Guillén: So you are consciously using these video technology tools to teach these young kids community outreach? And teaching them how to build community?

Slonim: Yeah. Basically, in my class my Third Graders design and build toys in small groups. They'll write a commercial for it, we'll film the commercial, and then they'll learn how to edit it in iMovie. My Fourth Graders make recycled commercials by doing the same process. My Fifth Graders made videos to compete in KWN, but they don't do it during school. They make them during lunch recess, before school and after school. They have to actually apply to do it.

Guillén: How did Hemingway Elementary become involved with the Sun Valley Film Festival?

Slonim: One of the films that SVFF accepted—Time Travelling Kids—was one of the top three finalists for Boise State University, as part of the Idaho Leaf Project. The other film SVFF accepted—Skating Partners—was made for KWN, but KWN only accepts one video and we had made three, just because the kids wanted to do it. What we do in that instance is that the whole school watches the videos and then they vote on which one goes to KWN. I actually entered all three of those videos into SVFF and they chose Skating Partners.

Guillén: That's great. I have to commend you on this project, Scott. It's a wonderful way to teach children to express themselves. Are the Hamilton Elementary videos available for streaming online?

Slonim: Yes, they are. If you go to the Blaine County School District's website, on the left there's a tab where you can select EduVision.TV, which will bring you to all of the schools' videos. Towards the middle of the page there's a drop-down menu where you choose Hemingway Elementary and it will bring up all of the videos made by my students.

One other thing: we also do a live news show every morning at 8:00 that's broadcast live to the internet. We have green screen and different cameras and the kids run and produce the whole thing. If you go to the Blaine County School District website and select Hemingway, you can watch our live news show.

Guillén: My goodness! You have these kids on career track.

Slonim: Well, what I like is that it gives them an experience with public speaking. They become camera-comfortable. There are kids in the Fifth Grade program who at the beginning of the year say they only want to be behind the camera, but after they watch the show one time they're like, "Can I be Anchor One?" So if you have a chance, watch it. It's a lot of fun.

Guillén: Will do.

Slonim: Well, thank you very much for including us in your coverage of the festival.

Guillén: My pleasure.

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Hemingway Elementary Fifth Grade Class, Picabo Street, Sagebrush, Scott Slonim, SVFF, Ted Grennan,

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SVFF 2013:SHORT FILMS & MUSIC VIDEOS

As mentioned previously, an eclectic assortment of short films and music videos have been selected for screening at the upcoming Sun Valley Film Festival (March 14-17, 2013). The 20 short films and 15 music videos were selected based on their focus on story, no matter the medium. These additional films and videos will complement the outstanding lineup of 33 feature films to be presented throughout the festival weekend. Of the selected short films, five are world premieres and one is a North American premiere. Idaho is well represented in the film and music video selection as 8 of the shorts were filmed in Idaho, and 9 of the music videos were made by Idaho filmmakers. Here's a sampling of the Idaho output.

SHORT FILM LINEUP

Exit Wound (Director: Hunter Holcombe)—Sgt. Chess Johnson was shot through his eye while fighting in Iraq, and told he was no longer fit to serve. After struggling with alcoholism, drug dependency, PTSD and traumatic brain injury, he is invited to a unique program in Sun Valley, Idaho helping treat veterans and their spouses. The goal: to channel their addiction to adrenaline through outlets like skiing and paragliding. Exit Wound is a 26-minute documentary film about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It follows Chess, a veteran of the war in Iraq, from his hometown in Washington State to a camp in the mountains of Sun Valley, Idaho, as he learns to cope with PTSD. Programs like Higher Grounds in Sun Valley are helping veterans learn to deal with the mental and physical problems that arise when soldiers return from war. Official site. IMDb. Facebook. Vimeo.

Holcombe is a recent graduate of UC Berkeley's documentary program, with a master's degree from the journalism school. He's lived in the Bay Area for the last 12 years, working mainly as a magazine editor and writer. During a year in Buenos Aires, he had a chance to work with a producer of a short project, and immediately fell in love with shooting and producing video. He went straight to Berkeley, where—under the expert guidance of Jon Else and Spencer Nakasako—he learned how to make films, Exit Wound being the result. Holcombe launched a Kickstarter campaign in July 2012 that proved unsuccessful; however, the film was accepted into Chicago's United Film Festival in September 2012 and now returns to SVFF.

Magpie (Writer / Director: Joel Wayne; Producer: Troy Custer)—Morris is a middle-aged, recently-divorced man recovering from pica, an addictive disorder characterized by an appetite for inorganic food, like chalk, metal, or detergent. When Morris' son, Peter, checks himself out of a sober living facility, Morris spends the day searching for him and finds himself relapsing in the process. IMDb. World Premiere. I've recently interviewed Joel Wayne for The Evening Class.

STZ (Director / Producer / Editor: Kirsten Strough)—"Is one night of passion worth roaming the earth as an undead monster?" At their freshman orientation, students are shown a PSA warning against more than just the dangers of drugs and alcohol, but also against the recent breakout of STZ: Sexually Transmitted Zombies.

Kirsten Strough began experimenting with video production as a sophomore at Fruitland High School, which had a good broadcasting program, so she was lucky to have access to equipment and learn from talented people. During her senior year, she was accepted into several colleges and offered good scholarships, but decided to go with Boise State University where she was offered a full ride as a Legacy Scholar through the Alumni Association. With some decent experience under her belt (for her age) and a peaked interest in the field, she decided to study Mass Communication / Journalism at BSU. The Communication Department had several media production and theory classes. By the time she graduated, they had a Cinema and Digital Media Studies certificate which she received along with a Bachelor of Arts Degree in Mass Communication / Journalism and a minor in Political Science. She now works for the Bureau of Reclamation as a Visual Information Specialist shooting and editing photos and videos for the public, technical reports, archival purposes, etc.

STZ was written by her cousin Betty Kim Ryan, a screenwriter in Seattle, and her screenwriting partner, David R. Larson. Strough had half-jokingly suggested to them that they should write her a script and they decided to write something that would be feasible to make on a college campus that would appeal to a collegiate age range. Strough absolutely loved the script from day one and decided to make it happen, even though she's not actually a huge genre fan. She finds horror movies generally far too gratuitous and tends to gravitate toward more dramatic films, but enjoys a good suspense film from time to time.

Being a shorts filmmaker in Idaho has been somewhat difficult for her. In one respect, Boise's small filmmaking community is composed of individuals who are generally good about give and take and working on each others' projects. But the barter system can only get you so far, Strough admits, and good luck with trying to make a living as a filmmaker in Idaho! Though she concedes it's not impossible. It's just difficult to find funding and people who have the time to work on her projects. Nearly every Idaho filmmaker she knows has a day job. It is what it is. Notwithstanding, she would love to pursue a career in filmmaking, especially as a producer or an assistant director. But for now, she's enjoying her job with the Federal Government, which is allowing her to pay off the student loans she acquired from a semester studying abroad.

The Yellow Wallpaper (Director: Jesse Cordtz; Executive Producer: Jane Merrow)—The Yellow Wallpaper takes place in the old nursery of a dilapidated Victorian home. The woman, played by Jane Merrow, is nervous and high strung, therefore her husband, a doctor, has confined her to this nursery to help cure her disposition. This however has the opposite effect as her neurosis begins to take over and the wallpaper in the room begins to come to life. After its World Premiere at SVFF, The Yellow Wallpaper will screen on PBS and then be made available online. Official site. IMDb.

Mandrake Estate (Director / Writer / Producer: Zach Voss)—Mandrake Estate is the most prestigious golf course within 35 miles, according to its loyal groundskeeper, Brooks Llyodman. But the staff and members become divided over budget decisions, risking the peaceful nature of Mandrake across all 18 holes, and beyond. World Premiere.

Voss and his film Mandrake Estate were the recipients of an Idaho Film Office film grant in 2012. My interview with him is included within my initial survey of Idaho film production, published in Fusion magazine.

Morning Mic (Director / Writer / Producer / DP: Andrew Crawford)—A popular radio DJ struggles to find meaning in life. IMDb. World Premiere.

The Seed (Director / Co-Writer / Editor: Christian Lybrook; Producer / Co-Writer: Chris Brock)—When a curious seed arrives in an unmarked envelope, it leads a broken man on a journey to uncover its meaning. IMDb. World Premiere.

For a more detailed overview of The Seed, visit my interview with Lybrook published on Fandor's Keyframe where both his shorts The Seed and last year's SVFF entry Crawlspace (2011) will be streaming concurrent with the festival.

MUSIC VIDEO LINEUP

"Benchwarmers" by Finn Riggins (Director / Animator: Jason Sievers)—Jason Sievers's Vimeo page (which includes SVFF entry "Benchwarmers") offers several of his other music videos as well. Sievers's background is as a graphic designer and—aside from a couple of photography classes and a video production course at BSU—he's had no real background in film; but, he's always loved animation and realized about 13 years ago that he could make rudimentary animations with his Mac, his webcam and inexpensive software. As cheap digital camera technology evolved, he quickly moved away from webcam projects to a DSLR. Although he concedes his video skills are limited by equipment, he recently provided video backgrounds for an Opera Idaho production that he shot using GoPro cameras and video applications on his iPod Touch.

Aside from his early stop-motion experiments and a couple of commercial projects, nearly all his work in animation has been in the form of music videos. Music is a major passion in his life and he's a huge fan and supporter of Boise music and has several musician friends. Motivated to make music videos is a great way for him to explore different animation techniques and media. Whether he's initiated a project or been invited by a band, knowing there is a potential audience helps him accomplish the work. As animation is time-consuming, especially when working solo, a 3-4 minute song can take up to a couple months to complete and a few of his videos have taken considerably longer. As a father with a full time job in advertising it takes Sievers a lot of late nights and weekends to get things done, but—because it's something he genuinely loves—he's enjoyed collaborating with amazing artists who are grateful and appreciative of his work. There's no question that the internet has advanced video as an important tool for bands to gain exposure and his own work has been furthered through association. Although many music videos boast big budgets, all too often they're negligible. Sievers operates under the premise that—if people can spend half a million dollars on a video that ends up being devoid of artistry or meaning—then, conversely, someone working without any budget but with a great love for the music—can turn an interesting idea into something beautiful and meaningful.

Although some of his work was shown at a Portland music video festival, being accepted into SVFF means he'll actually get to attend. Sievers doesn't have specific expectations associated with having "Benchwarmers" screen at SVFF, but is thrilled for the exposure and is grateful SVFF has seen fit to include a program of music videos, granting them credence as an art form. He's happy to be representing Boise alongside fellow Boise artist Tyler Williams. As for the pros and cons of being an imagemaker in Boise, Sievers appreciates the city's small but vibrant art community and how artists from different disciplines support each other. The downside is the lack of exposure outside of Boise and the state. On the whole, however, he loves living in Idaho and raising his family here and has confidence his work will continue to grow and evolve and, hopefully, receive some attention along the way regardless of location. He understands the allure of big cities for young artists, but claims Boise is enough of a city for him and his artistry.

 
“Benchwarmers” by Finn Riggins (10+1 pt. 3, fall 2011) from Jason Sievers on Vimeo.

"Done To My Love" & "East Coast Dying" by Gayze Director: Tyler T. Williams

 
Gayze - "Done To My Love" & "East Coast Dying" from Tyler T. Williams on Vimeo.

"You Are Minez" by Jean Sebastien Audet Director: Tyler T. Williams

 
YOU ARE MINEZ from Tyler T. Williams on Vimeo.

Tyler T. Williams grew up on a ranch outside Santa Barbara, California and early on developed a love for the outdoors. Then he became obsessed with skateboarding and would film his friends shredding the streets around town after school and on weekends. After capturing a week's worth of footage, he would edit day and night until he thought he had a perfect little film, which meant a lot of trial and error.

When asked how he interacted with musicians to develop a concept for a music video, he responded that typically he's approached by an artist with a specific track in mind, which he listens to for hours until an idea pops into his head. "I usually go by what sort of feeling the song makes me feel and then create characters for these feelings," he explained. "The atmosphere is then built around them." Sometimes the musicians will have a certain direction they want to go, but can't really put a finger on an actual visual that will translate correctly.

Visually, I find Williams's music videos interesting for their desaturated color pallette, even as in each video he retains some colorful element as a counterpoint: the green car in one, the blue shirt in the other, the yellow jumpsuit in the third. He couldn't quite articulate what informs that visual choice other than to say he likes "the stark contrast between these props and their characters."

I wondered why his concepts were so violent? Williams qualified that it wasn't the violence that fascinates him, but the moment his characters are driven to violence and the thoughts that might be going through their heads. It's nearly unfathomable, yet such moments of violence happen every day.

As for coordinating the visual rhythm of his editing with the rhythm of the music, he admitted the process usually involves "millions of hours" tweaking the edit repeatedly each day. One week he'll like his edit and the following week he'll hate it. So he'll cut it again and again until it reaches a point where he's finally okay with it. Sometimes he'll already have editing concepts in his mind before he's shot any footage and—once he sees what he's shot—is forced to go in a totally different direction.

Given all its beautiful locations, Williams finds Idaho absolutely fabulous. Thirty minutes outside of Boise and he's in a killer location, which is great for guerrilla filmmaking. The down side of being a short form filmmaker in Idaho is he hardly ever has a budget for a music video and/or trying to coordinate a proper crew is tough. He has DoP friends who live in LA that he'd love to work with in Idaho, but—without a budget—it's hard to get them North. Further, the lack of camera rental shops in Boise make securing equipment tough. "So I guess that it's not that Idaho is necessarily bad for filmmaking; it's just that all of the people I'd like to collaborate with live out of state." He loves making music videos even though there's no return financially. They're like building blocks for him in learning how to tell stories. Eventually, he'd like to try to tell stories through feature films.

"Breakers" by Local Natives Director: Jaffe Zinn

 
Local Natives - Breakers (Official Music Video) from PIASGermany on Vimeo.

"DUHNK" by Owlright Director: Owlright




"GreyHound" by Jonathan Warren and the Billy Goats Director: James Hansen Producers: James Hansen, Ben Molyneux




"When Frida Became" by Project 213 Directors: Stephanie Michelle Lokelani, Gene Eilebrecht—Combining masked dance, animation, and an impassioned title song, "When Frida Became" harkens to Frida Kahlo's redemption from pain through art.

 

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Gene Eilebrecht, Hunter Holcombe, Jane Merrow, Jason Sievers, Jesse Cordtz, Joel Wayne, Kirsten Strough, Owlright, Sagebrush, Stephanie Michelle Lokelani, SVFF, Troy Custer, Tyler T. Williams, Zach Voss,

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SVFF 2013: SHORT FILMS—MAGPIE (2011): The Evening Class Interview With Joel Wayne

An eclectic assortment of short films and music videos have been selected for screening at the upcoming 2013 Sun Valley Film Festival (March 14-17). The 20 short films and 15 music videos were selected based on their focus on story, no matter the medium. These additional films and videos will complement the outstanding lineup of 33 feature films to be presented throughout the festival weekend.

Of the selected short films, five are world premieres and one is a North American premiere. Idaho is well represented in the film and music video selection as 8 of the shorts were filmed in Idaho, and 9 of the music videos were made by Idaho filmmakers. One that caught my eye was Magpie (2012) [IMDb], written and directed by Joel Wayne, and produced and shot by Troy Custer. Magpie boasts its World Premiere at Sun Valley. As synopsized at the festival's website: "Morris is a middle-aged, recently-divorced man recovering from pica, an addictive disorder characterized by an appetite for inorganic food, like chalk, metal, or detergent. When Morris' son, Peter, checks himself out of a sober living facility, Morris spends the day searching for him and finds himself relapsing in the process."

It ends up that pica is not only an eating disorder characterized by an abnormal appetite for earth and other non-foods; but, it's also a genus for the magpie, thus the wry title to this edgy narrative that daringly visualizes the stressors that trigger such an unusual and provocative disorder. By comparison, a son addicted to drugs seems normal and tame. My thanks to Troy Custer for putting me in touch with Joel Wayne for a conversation.

 
Magpie (Director's Cut) from Joel Wayne on Vimeo.

Michael Guillén: Joel, I take it you come from a writing background?

Joel Wayne: Yeah, I went to school for English and creative writing and I'm currently a part-time grad student in an MFA program for writing at Boise State.

Guillén: Your writing style is dark and edgy. Who are your influences?

Wayne: It depends on the medium. Influences in terms of screenwriting would probably be in the vein of the Coen Brothers or Woody Allen. I'm interested in relationships more than anything else. Those two influence my prose as well.

Guillén: Has any of your prose been published?

Wayne: Yeah, I've just had my first short story "Deliquescence" published last year in a small magazine called apt, based out of Boston.

Guillén: Congratulations on getting your first short film Magpie into the Sun Valley Film Festival. You've written, directed, and acted in this film, which is a strange, but effective story. I had never heard of pica before. How did the subject of this eating disorder come to your attention as a writer?

Wayne: Different reality shows have shown people with this eating disorder, who a lot of times eat the same thing over and over and over. They'll eat toilet paper or dryer sheets or something like that. It's a habitual, self-comforting activity. I've taken some liberty in Magpie because my character Morris (Chris Thometz) eats a few different things: detergent, paperclips, bullets (although there are people who eat metal in general). A number of years ago there was an artist who made collage work out of the stomach contents of people suffering from pica; nails and things like that.

Guillén: Oh, my God!

Wayne: I find addictive disorders like that interesting in general. In film, you tend to see the same disorders depicted over and over, usually OCD—people tend to write about OCD—but, there are so many other interesting disorders, whether they're dibilitating or not, like synesthesia (the mixing of senses). I find all of that interesting.

Guillén: As subject matter, these disorders are intriguing. Why your script worked for me, however, was because of the juxtaposition of the father's pica eating disorder triggered by and contrasted against his son's drug addiction. Usually an audience would feel sorry for a drug addict, but in this instance Peter—who you play—comes off quite normal by comparison to his father. I thought that tension was both unexpected and comic. I loved the exchange when Peter asks his dad, "What are you doing to yourself?" and Morris answers, "I'm working on it. What are you doing?" And Peter protests, "I'm working on it too!" A very funny, yet poignant, moment.

Wayne: I tried to look at the influences in Morris's life—his recent divorce, his son's problems—as stressors that might be leading to his eating disorder. As I said earlier, I'm interested in relationships, especially familial relationships where—in this instance, let's say—the father is obviously at a certain point influencing his son without having to take responsibility for his actions.

Guillén: With regard to writing for different kinds of short form mediums, how do you approach that? I understand you wrote the script for Troy Custer's I48 entry Closure and in that film there was no dialogue at all. How did you negotiate visualizing that story with Troy?

 
Closure from Bumblebird Films on Vimeo.
 
Wayne: Well, as you probably know, there are very strict parameters when you're making a film for I48. You basically draw a genre out of a hat (not literally). What we drew was a silent film. Years ago I remember Troy doing another silent film in more of a vaudevillian style about a guy getting ready for a date. When you go into a competition like I48, you already have a couple of ideas or stories in your head that you try to turn into whatever genre you get. For Closure, this was not a story that I had in my head; it was actually a play off a story Troy had; but, we switched it up: it wasn't a man killing his wife but two lovers killing this man who was cheating on both of them with each other. We tried to turn it into something of a dark comedy; to give this dark idea a little levity. I argued that the idea of a guy killing his wife was something that had already been done a lot and that it would be more interesting to have the woman kill her boyfriend instead.

Guillén: Well, I have to be upfront here and say that I thought it was the best selection that I saw from I48, both in style and atmosphere. I think it deserved the top prize and was surprised it didn't win. It certainly drew my attention to both your work and Troy's.

Wayne: Good, I'm glad to hear that. I wrote Closure but Troy directed it. We've worked together now for a couple of years; but, we're starting to switch back and forth now with the directing.

Guillén: As someone who's come from outside who's monitoring Boise's film production, it strikes me that there are creative teams at work here: you, Troy Custer, actors Jim Lile and Kristy Lussier, you're working with each other again and again and familiarizing yourselves with each others' talents and developing an ensemble style. Would you consider that a fair assessment? The fact that you're working together a lot?

Wayne: We have. In terms of talent, it tends to rotate a bit. Jim Lile is always up for just about doing whatever so he's someone who's easy to involve. The lead in Magpie, Chris Thometz, used to be located out of Chicago and did some acting there. We had seen him do a character-driven piece in an I48 film and I talked to him and told him I would love to work with him on something else and he was into it. When I was writing Magpie, I was writing it for him, though I hadn't yet told him that or anything. Then I sent it over to him and he got on board.

Guillén: Along with Magpie being selected for the short films program, you've also earned a slot in the program of music videos with TW Walsh's "Pawn Shop Guns", on which you lent a directorial hand. Walsh, in turn, provided the unsettling score to Magpie. How has that collaboration come about and what is involved in working with a musician to create a music video? Did you approach him with a concept after listening to the music or did he approach you saying, "This is what I want?" How did that process work for you two?

 

Wayne: That project was sheer happenstance. I follow TW Walsh on Twitter and I'm a big fan of his work, both when he made music with David Bazan in the band Pedro the Lion, and then in his solo work. Walsh has come out with his first album in eight years or something like that and he had said something on Twitter about anyone wanting to make a music video for a song from his new album? I replied to him and asked if it would be my choice? He sent me his email address and we went back and forth a few times and I said I had a couple of ideas for a couple of different songs. He said that sounded like a lot of fun. So I said, "Why don't we do a little test shooting on one of these ideas?"—a time lapse shot on that song "Pawn Shop Guns"—so over lunch one day we did a test shoot and sent that over to him and he really dug it. I did more of a formal treatment and sent that over to him and he gave us his blessing and we shot it.  The cool part was that he said, "You know, I don't have a set budget for this but what I can do is pay you in trade. I can pay you with original music, if you want to do something like that?"

Guillén: What a great deal!

Wayne: Yeah, it was fantastic for us because I had already written Magpie and had originally created it for a film contest out of Chicago, and that specific contest required original music. So we needed original music for it and I worked with TW Walsh on it and he made some original music for us. Then we asked him if we could use one of his songs from the album for the final part of Magpie and he said, "Yeah. Absolutely."

Guillén: So to wrap up here, how do you subsidize your film work in Boise? How do you earn a living?

Wayne: I'm a copy writer in an ad agency. That's my 9 to 5.

Guillén: Any thoughts on what it means for you to have been accepted into the Sun Valley Film Festival with both projects? Is there anything you're hoping to get out of the experience?

Wayne: It's a big, big deal for me to be accepted because it was something totally that happened out of sheer luck. Our script supervisor on Magpie sent us an email alerting us that Sun Valley was calling for short films and music videos so we submitted both, just a couple of days before the deadline. When you do these short film projects like this, you kind of create it for one thing and you submit it to whatever that thing is and then you move on, y'know? If you win an award, great. If not, it doesn't really matter. You move on to the next project. But this is an instance where we were able to get a little more life out of Magpie and we feel good about the end product so we've been searching for something to spur us on a little bit, to maybe look at other film festivals that we can maybe submit it to. Sun Valley Film Festival feels kind of like a jump off point for us.

Guillén: You're developing your film festival cred?

Wayne: Yeah, and we didn't think that was a possibility but now we're thinking, "Maybe it is!"

Guillén: Most short form content—short films and music videos—usually inhabit a space online. Both Magpie and "Pawn Shop Guns" are already available on the Internet. However, the value of being accepted into a film festival such as Sun Valley means the project takes on a portfolio quality. It exists in both on and off line spaces, with their respective audiences. How do you feel about having an audience for the "in-cinema" world premiere of your images?

Wayne: I don't know if it's age or what—because I'm not sure if I necessarily value having the traditional audience in a cinema—but, I do like that aspect of it, of people actually going to a physical cinema to view something I've done. That's still something we do as a society. Granted, I don't know if the in-cinema experience is necessarily dying or not; but, it seems more likely that people watch a film in their home rather than go out. Yet people still do trek to the cinema so I think it's kind of a fun idea that people would physically go somewhere to see something that you do.

I did a reading recently at Hyde Park Books and, similarly, a number of people that don't normally go to those readings showed up when I mentioned I was going to read there. That meant a lot to me because these were people who made the physical effort to come out and hear me read.

Guillén: Your seeming unfamiliarity with in-cinema experiences intrigues me as characteristic of an online generation; but, I do believe that the portfolio approach I mentioned before—of being present on line and off—strengthens the flow of community and response, commensurate to scale. I'm hoping that your experience at Sun Valley proves to be a rich one for you.  Thank you for taking the time to talk with me today.

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Bumblebird Films, Chris Thometz, David Bazan, Jim Lile, Joel Wayne, Kristy Leigh Lussier, Sagebrush, SVFF, Troy Custer, TW Walsh,

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