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Spurlock Sisters at Biennale College Cinema: Week Two

Kim Spurlock — Mon, 04 Feb 2013 21:50:27 +0000

For the Spurlock Sisters’ first blog entry, visit: http://filmmakermagazine.com/64191-spurlock-sisters-at-biennale-college-cinema-part-one/

They say that creative works are never really finished, we just let them go at some point. I guess that’s what deadlines are for. The new versions of step outline, budget and schedule for A Case of the Dismals were due a week after we arrived at San Servolo, at 2:00PM. So of course I finished at 1:55. I had also ‘finished’ a couple of hours earlier when I thought the deadline was noon. With a sigh of relief, Mai and I clicked ‘send’ and off our little package went to the Biennale. We then had about 15 minutes to savor the accomplishment before rushing off to begin our second week of intensive prep. The concentration this time around? The Pitch. We had three days until we pitched Dismals to the folks at the Biennale, so we dutifully ingested our umpteenth espresso and headed to class.

We hit the ground running with a cold pitch of our project to our mentor group and the trainer. The great thing about working on a pitch is that you begin to see where the mechanics of your script are working and where they aren’t. It forces you to distill your story and whatever it is you are trying to say with it.

I think I mentioned before that it would be interesting to compare my Biennale experience with Emerging Narratives and Emerging Visions at IFP Week last Fall, when I was there with another project The Whispering Giant. Probably the major difference is the length and the breadth of the training. While the Biennale is two weeks of story, budget, schedule, pitch and distribution intensives, EN and EV spent a day focusing on our pitch to industry folks for feedback. Emerging Narratives then follows with several days of industry meetings with producers who have expressed interest in your project. All three of these initiatives offer superb training and exposure for first and second-time filmmakers.

Photo by Tomer Bahat

The morning of our official pitch to Alberto Barbera (Director of the Film Festival) and the Biennale College, Mai and I woke up early to practice a couple more times before we headed to the cafeteria to eat breakfast and find out the running order of the teams. A Case of the Dismals would be dead last. I guess we’re a hard act to follow!

By lunch break, we were pretty nervous. Ten teams had finished their pitches and were already celebrating over Spritzes and Prosecco. Didn’t want to end up snoring in the aisles when they called our names, so Mai and I stuck to espresso while we had a nice chat with Amy Dotson.

The Spurlock Sisters and Amy Dotson

As our moment approached, I watched the teams ahead of us with a mixture of admiration and anxiety. These producer/director duos we had gotten to know over the past couple of weeks were impressive – they’d really managed to bring their presentations together in lucid and exciting ways. Had we come as far as they had?

Finally our names were called. One of my biggest problems to date had been talking too fast and I had been working hard on enunciating each and every word – even though it sounded to me like I was speaking under water. As we were handed our mikes, I took a deep breath and scanned the crowd for a smiling face. The rest is a blur. All I remember is looking out at one point and seeing our mentor motioning to me with his hands to slow down. My sister, who is a bit more level headed when it comes to these things, says we did great.

The rest of the day was a boozy, joyful affair spent carousing with the other teams in a Venice pub before a delicious dinner back at the Biennale, and a bittersweet party back on San Servolo where we said our goodbyes. While jokes about Battle Royale and the Hunger Games had been tossed back and forth along with tongue-in-cheek murmurings of secret poisons to eliminate the competition, I had grown to truly admire these folks and knew that I would miss them when we returned to the States.

We would find out within 24 hours which three teams would be invited back to the Island, but for now we just enjoyed one another’s company.

Spurlock Sisters at Biennale College Cinema: Week One

Kim Spurlock — Wed, 30 Jan 2013 16:00:41 +0000

So I was thinking Don’t Look Now, but my sis had Scooby Doo on her mind as we drifted through the eerie fog on Venice’s Grand Canal. We were headed towards San Zaccaria, where we would catch a boat for the last leg of our journey to San Servolo island.

Mai and I met up in Frankfurt – she from LA and I from Brooklyn – to fly together into Venice for the Biennale College Cinema, where we would develop and pitch our feature film A Case of the Dismals. The fog thickened as we boarded the waterbus to the Island. Any thoughts of Nicholas Roeg and Shaggy dissolved in our minds as San Servolo emerged from the mist like a mirage. My first thought? Welcome to Shutter Island.

San Servolo was known for hundreds of years as the “Island of the Mad” because it served as Venice’s official insane asylum, so naturally I felt a bit spooked on the approach.

San Servolo

Luckily things got decidedly less creepy after some prosecco and friendly conversation with our fellow filmmakers and the Biennale team. Amongst the 14 other Director/Producer teams from Africa, South America, Europe and Asia, I met fellow Emerging Visions Director Tim Sutton, whose humor and warmth boded well for our stay. I was actually curious to see how the Biennale Program would compare to my experiences with Emerging Narratives and Emerging Visions last fall. For sure, I figured there would be more of a competitive element since only three of the teams would move forward for the second lab, as well as the 150,000 Euro to finance their microbudget project.

On day one, all the teams and mentors gathered together for a round robin introduction, where we had the first opportunity to informally pitch our projects. In hindsight, I can’t believe how far everybody came by the time we pitched to the folks at the Biennale ten days later. Really blows my mind.

From there, Mai headed off to spend the next several mornings with her producing mentor combing through our budget while I re-worked the creative side of things both in a group setting with a mentor and one-on-one with a script consultant. I loved how these sessions reinforced each other, with feedback from both mentor and consultant helping me to chisel out the essence of my story. At one point as I was reworking a sequence of our film where adolescent girls become lost in a mountain forest, mentor and consultant echoed one another with a comparison to Picnic at Hanging Rock: atmospheric, haunting, a bit ominous and subtly sexual…

View from the Island

As week one drew to a close, the attitude among the filmmakers remained supportive and friendly, though many of us were sick and all of us feeling the stress of a deadline: by the end of the week we were to submit a new and improved version of our story, budget and schedule. Luckily, evenings gave us a chance to relax and wine/dine Italian style. The Biennale treated us to lovely dinners in Venice proper. Primi platti, secondi platti, and great conversation with a diverse crowd of cinephiles… a little bit of film geek heaven. Too be continued….

In Praise of Doubt

Amy Dotson — Tue, 29 Jan 2013 16:00:28 +0000

It turned out to be incredibly prophetic that my first day in Venice, Italy as one of the leaders for the Biennale College-Cinema was spent at collector François Pinault‘s incredible Punta della Dogana. This beautiful museum opened in 2009, with its closest neighbor – the Santa Maria della Salute Church- constructed almost four hundred years prior. It was but the first example of old masters sitting side-by-side in conversation with the new I experienced during this magical and inspiring week.

Santa Maria Della Salute Church, Venice

Filmmaker and fellow IFP Lab leader Jon Reiss and I entered the exhibition. In Praise of Doubt was based upon the curatorial notion of “questioning the idea of uncertainty and our convictions about identity,” It too displayed modern art masters like Jeff Koons and Donald Judd alongside a wide-range of younger, lesser-known artists, many of whom have never been included in previous exhibitions of the Pinault Collection before. For many of them, like our filmmakers, this was their first time engaging audiences with their work on the international stage.

These themes and ideas closely mirrored what would soon be consuming the teams of emerging filmmakers on the island of San Servalo, where FILMMAKER Magazine’s Editor-in-Chief Scott Macaulay & I were privileged to work with a group of five teams at the Biennale developing feature films in Egypt, Lebanon, The Philippines, Italy and England.

In concert with other experienced mentors and their fellow artists from around the world, they were pushed again and again for two weeks to communicate their vision: to fine tune their story worlds, enrich their characters and dig deep into their own personal narratives to create something totally fresh and engaging. Above all, they were forced to revel in and embrace the uncertainty of what was to come and what they might uncover.

I have to admit, I really felt for these artists. Although it seems like yesterday, I couldn’t help but remember my own transformation in Venice eighteen years prior when I arrived on the island with little more than a pair of unfashionable overalls and the pack on my back. As an art student from a small, southern university, I was certainly wasn’t equipped with the language needed to express myself. I too was there living amongst strangers. And I was terrified of how I would survive when seemingly my only skill-set was a proclivity for welding complex structures. It was a time in my life where there was a lot to doubt on a daily basis.

All to say, my world was small before Venice.

But the art, the people, and the copious espressos fueled me. I went out and explored. I tried new things, and sometimes failed spectacularly. For every night that I reveled in the experience and appreciated the opportunities given, there were plenty where I felt like this horse sculpture by Maurizio Cattelan which aptly confronts viewers at the entrance of the Dogana.

Untitled, Maurizio Cattelan

Luckily, the many teachers, artists and friends I met eventually got me talking about my work. It all became real – not just the art I was making and the stories I was telling, but the idea that this could be my life. And while I eventually exchanged my acetylene torch for a cheap digital camera, my experiences in Venice gave me above all the courage of conviction to keep pushing forward and become comfortable with the unknown.

Thus, the most emotional and meaningful part of the Biennale College- Film for me was watching these personal transformations unfold anew, some slowly and others adapting at a shockingly quick pace. Seeing these filmmakers find their own courage to change, – in this case, overcome fears of public speaking or letting go of cherished, deeply personal storylines – was a reminder that inspiration and collaboration in Venice can truly do wonders for the creative mind.

In particular, it was a beautiful sight indeed to watch Shireen Seno’s Nervous Translation and Vatche Boulghourjain’s Tramontane develop. Quiet and evocative directors whose projects told stories of self and country, they were adept at creating unbelievable story worlds with rich characters and detailed elements that left you slackjawed and wanting, These stories seem like a distant relative of Edward Kienholz, whose large-scale installation ROXY was appropriately tucked away in a secret corner the Dogana.

ROXY, Edward Kienholz

More still were the types of projects that took cues from old dramatic structures and spun them in fresh directions. Deeply personal narratives Roland Jobson’s Into the Light & Kasem Kharsa’s I Dream of Empire and their dark, nuanced visuals have scenes that continue to play out in my mind. They mingle in my memory along with Paul McCarthy’s mutilated mask series, She/Man, all playing with time, gender and form in a way that feel simultaneously original and ancient.

Paul McCarthy’s “She/Man”

The ultimate winners of the Biennale – the three projects which will receive $150,000 Euro prizes and the opportunity to premiere at the 2013 Venice Film Festival – were all shockingly strong, conceptual pieces. Each provoked an almost visceral audience response as their stories and visuals unfolded in their pitches. Thai artist Nawapol Thamrongrattanarit’s A Year of June and IFP Alum New York-based Tim Sutton’s Memphis both wowed, and I look forward to seeing them come to life in the coming months.

Memphis’ John Baker and Tim Sutton at the Biennale di Venezia Pitch

And then there was Alessio Fava’s Yuri Esposito, a meditative and beautiful project Scott & I worked with chronicling the slowest man in the world. The project won as well and will go into production this spring. The filmmakers assure me that their protagonist may be “lentamente,” but the project will be delivered on time!

Director Alessio Fava, Producer Max Chicco and Yuri Esposito

To see it all in motion was a true joy and there’s not enough gelato or Chinotto in the world to thank Gucci, the Biennale’s Paola Baratta, Venice Film Festival head Alberto Barbera, and the amazing team of Savina Neirotti, Jane Williams, and Michel Reilhac for all they’ve done for these filmmakers. And as their sole U.S. partner, it was an honor for all of us here at IFP to have worked with everyone on this program from idea to inception. To see it all become real right before our eyes, watching these young filmmakers make work amongst the backdrop of one of Italy’s most achingly beautiful and ancient cities, was truly a sight to behold. I have no doubt we’ll be hearing quite a lot from these artists in the coming years and encourage you to discover them for yourselves at http://www.labiennale.org/en/cinema/collegecinema/.

The College’s Jane Williams, Michel Reilhac, Amy Dotson and Savina Neirotti

Dream = Reality: Filmmaker Tim Sutton on Moving into Production at the Venice Biennale

Tim Sutton — Fri, 25 Jan 2013 18:00:06 +0000

Leaving Venice at 7am, I was planning to shlep my way to the airport via two vaporettas and a bus – you know, back to reality. Yet, by, divine intervention, I was lucky enough to hop a free ride in a water taxi with the Artistic Director of the Biennale Cinema College directly to the airport. It was glorious – the quiet, glassy water, the rosy morning light, a slight breeze to nurse my exhaustion. As we hummed along, he said, with poker face intact, ‘It is even more delightful in the summer.’ He went on to Berlin, I went to visit a friend in Rome and it crossed my mind that I was pretty much living in a dream – and later on that day the dream turned into my reality: Memphis would be one of the 3 films financed by the Biennale and will premiere at the 2013 Venice Film Festival. I’ll be honest, the first thoughts I had were guilt and fear – guilt because of the 12 incredibly daring film projects that did not get funding, and fear that 6 months is an insanely tight schedule to make something of quality. Over wine (and a serious plate of Roman lamb) that night, those feelings dissipated into a pure feeling of excitement. Both John Baker and I believe in our project – in our ability to truly realize this film – and now we had one of the most important art institutions in modern history believing in it too. An awesome realization to consider, and potent fuel to add to the fire that will be this film. We now get to make the film.

Aside from the intensity of the process of proving our film ready to be put into action, as well as the creative jolt of energy we put toward the story, the thing I will take away is this – and if it is a cliche, well, so be it: American indie filmmaking is just one fraction of the larger universe that is global independent cinema. There are so many new waves and new cinematic ideas coming from diverse spaces around the world: the (literally) first Arab science fiction film will hopefully be made this year and it will resemble La Jette more than Alien; Israeli and Lebanese films will creatively question identity and trust in ways that American filmmakers do not attempt; South African and Thai projects will (again, literally) expand the concept of cinema in its 21st century form…I guess my point is that telling cinematic stories on micro-budgets not only matters; it is the now…and the future. We’re just thrilled the Biennale Cinema College believes thatMemphis is a valuable part of this now, and that future.

Tales From Venice Biennale : The Good, The Bad and The Ugly with Tim Sutton

Tim Sutton — Fri, 18 Jan 2013 18:06:20 +0000

I mentioned the Biennale Cinema College grounds are a former insane asylum, right? Because we have all gone entirely bonkers. The schedule has been one of crushing deadlines on rewrites that have occupied much of our free time, budget analysis and re-analysis and production schedule fine-combing down to the dollar (and Euro) and minute. Okay, so,

The good: Our project, Memphis, is looking really strong – the characters now feel like real people and a key scene at the end has gone from an interior to an exterior and, for some magic reason, it makes the entire concept work in a more natural and organic way. The budget and schedule are air tight and, even more important, truly feasible. And it isn’t just our project – everyone’s film here has gone through transformations and changes and, with the bulk of the work done, each project stands on firmer ground than when they arrived – the lab works.

The bad: during this process, we have all gone somewhat insane or suffered a flu/fever on this island. I walked by an Italian producer yesterday and instead of greeting me he simply said, ‘Blah blah blah.’ And it was perfect because I knew exactly what he was saying! A Thai film project has changed its title and storyline 3 times in 5 days (and it is awesome, btw). A Spanish producer and I guzzled wine last night as the conversation around us was on a philosophical approach to immersive media. I thought he might have lost consciousness twice during the conversation. Maybe I did.

The ugly: on Thursday, each project presents their work to the head of the Venice Film Festival, the head of the entire Venice Biennale, along with numerous journalists and students coming from as far as Rome to watch us deliver or melt down. Pressure. So, say a prayer for Memphis and, as everyone says right before festivals announce: fingers crossed.

Tales from Venice Biennale with Tim Sutton

Tim Sutton — Wed, 16 Jan 2013 16:00:15 +0000

I figured why not start with a couple of masterpieces to get me in the right frame of mind. So, packing up to head off to the Venice Biennale College Cinema workshop to pitch my second feature, Memphis, I did the math for the long day of travel ahead: book – Geoff Dyer’s Jeff in Venice, Death in Varanasi. Movie - Joachim Trier’s Oslo, August 31st. I figured those two daring and beautiful pieces were the right first steps in getting into the mindset to engage in what lies ahead – ten days of collaborative development with fourteen other film projects to try and carve out which ends up one of the three fully funded microbudget projects to premiere at the 2013 Venice Film Festival. But it gets even more intense when it turns out we’re staying on an island that is home to an ancient monastery-turned-mental-hospital-turned-university. The room I am staying in feels like all three. The seclusion of the campus just across a waterway from San Marco square is both beautiful and well, ghostly. And the mist that comes in off the lagoon as thick as velvet helps both said beautiful and ghostly achieve even greater depths.

Filmmakers from Israel, Lebanon, Phillipines, Thailand, Brazil, UK, Italy, South Africa…and a sister team from the U.S. along with me and my producer, John Baker (Dragonslayer), so the mix isn’t just providing a diverse community, it is entirely inspiring. After running my first feature, Pavilion, through the IFP Narrative Lab in 2011-12, I knew there would be some of that inspiration for sure. However, housed on the watery outskirts of Venice – a city that may have created the term ‘wonder while I wander’ – this lab has an endless sense of creativity and intensity. Every day, thus far, John heads off to his producer’s grilling – the base of which are the questions ‘can you actually get this film done in time and on budget’ and ‘how do you define the producer’s role’ – while I work with a group leader and four other projects – defining our creative goals, challenges, and directions – in essence, proving our project’s validity. The afternoons, I engage with story consultants to try and defend and expand the notions of the story I am trying/hoping/praying to make. Evenings are social and filled with the type of dialogue I missed by not going to film school – theory, references, personal histories – beautiful film nerd stuff – over a glass or two of wine. And then coming back by vaporetta to our little insane asylum in the deepest fog to sleep it off and press restart. So far, so good.