My darling wife, all too aware that I’ve been spending far too much time in my office, recently picked me up a gift, a little compact video camera that fits (literally) in the palm of my hand. After nearly a year, my western novel is just about finished, I’m burned out on the printed word and in need of a break. Clever gal knew exactly what I needed.
So…here’s my latest short movie, the first effort made with my brand new Kodak “PlayFull” video camera. This piece is a simple, straightforward adaptation of one of my short-short efforts, “Suspicious Mind”, a prose poem over 20 years old (but still packs a wallop). Let me know what you think…
This project began as a musical piece which turned out so well, I decided it might make a strange and unsettling soundtrack for an original movie. Sherron and I shot footage over two days and then loaded the images from our two cameras on to iMovie (a process rendered extremely difficult because of the age of my DV camera). I commenced editing, spending many long hours shaping the footage to the music, even concocting a kind of/sort of narrative.
You can view the film here and then, I hope, either drop a comment on my blog or over at YouTube:
I won’t try to summarize or explain “Beautiful Desolation” except to say that even on a planet that now boasts over six billion souls, there are still places where one can gain a profound impression of isolation, neglect, Nature reclaiming her own.
Enjoy the movie and I hope it inspires some thought and reflection. Perhaps it will cause you to contemplate the place where you live and view it in an entirely different light.
Here are a few snaps of your humble author, hard at work shooting footage “on location” as it were. An overgrown lot in small town Saskatchewan, old farm buildings that we spotted alongside the highway. Whenever we identified something that might fit our overall concept of “abandonment and desolation”, we’d pull over and do our thing.
I handled a DV camera we bought off the internet a number of years ago. Very creaky, the technology practically obsolete. I can still find tapes for it at places like London Drugs in Saskatoon but I wonder how long that will be the case.
Sherron, meanwhile, was using her iPod, employing a number of settings and filters to grab some neat effects. We’ll load all the footage onto my computer and I’ll get to work trying to compose something out of what we’ve compiled.
The reason for this flurry of cinematic activity is that I’ve created a delightful seven and a half minute piece with Garageband and it’s so evocative and interesting to me that I thought it deserved some visual accompaniment.
If anything comes of this grand experiment, I will, of course, add it to the blog for your perusal and analysis.
Many thanks to Sherron for her collaboration and input. It’s a thrill to work with someone as creative and visually attuned as she is. I’m quite confident her footage will be the best we shoot—the combination of my ancient camera and ineptitude pretty much works against my ever becoming a proficient DP (director of photography).
I’d better get back to work.
Happy Labour Day to my fellow Canucks…and I dearly hope the Saskatchewan Roughriders get their asses kicked later today.
God, I hate that team and its moronic, watery-brained fans…
As a tool of communication, it can’t be beat. It’s far-reaching, ubiquitous and interactive. A couple of posts ago I mentioned an obscure kids’ TV program from the late 1960’s called “Robot Boy”. My little essay was a nostalgia piece and the last thing I expected was that it would provoke a flurry of notes from folks who shared my warm (if vague) memories of the show.
And then I received a communication from Wes Chambliss, whose step-father used to work at the Yorkton TV station where “Robot Boy” was filmed. Mr. Chambliss inherited a box of reels, Super 8mm footage his father shot…and included in those many feet of celluloid is a few snippets filmed on the set of “Robot Boy”! Mr. Chambliss also confirmed that the original tapes were indeed lost, alas, so those fragments are all that remain of “Robot Boy”.
Wes has graciously allowed me to share that footage with you…augmented with an audio clip from the show’s intro.
It’s a thrill to re-introduce Robot Boy to the world after a 40 year absence. Long live Robot Boy!
Here’s a short film collaboration I’d like to share with you. I created the music, the great Stan Brakhage provided the quote and Sherron captured the images and edited it all together. Hope you enjoy this abstract meditation on perception.
A quick plug:
Check out the new short film my son Sam has posted on YouTube. It’s called “The Every Man” and it’s a good one. Keep in mind the kid is only 14 years old and conceived and created this all by himself…
We’re fast approaching the 40th anniversary of the first landing on the moon. My recollections of that day are very clear; it made a deep and long-lasting psychic impression on me. I’ve tried to express something of that magical time in this short film, titled “July 20, 1969”. My wife Sherron helped me put this snippet together (using the wonders of this here new iMac). The pictures are from the public domain, the music plucked from Garageband…the text derived from a short prose work I completed years ago.
This anniversary (Apollo 11) seems to be affecting me more than this sort of thing usually does. I firmly believe watching those fuzzy pictures from 250,000 miles away was an absolutely seminal moment from my childhood, those few days igniting my fascination with science fiction, other worlds, distant spaces, journeys into darkness, etc. I’m pleased to be able to pay tribute to the exploits and achievements of the Apollo program and I hope our little film gives some small hint of the sense of wonder and excitement I felt back then…emotions I retain today when I look at the pictures, see their faces, and have a clearer understanding of the daunting obstacles they faced, the sacrifices they made and the grandness of vision our forays into space represent.
This film is dedicated to the lads of Apollo 11: Neil Armstrong, Edwin Aldrin and Michael Collins
And the crew of Apollo 1: Roger Chaffee, Edward White, Virgil I. Grissom
My wife Sherron and I have collaborated on a short film, a “visual essay”, if you will. It’s abstract and non-narrative, a sparse vision shot in the heart of a Canadian winter. I’m astonished at the technology available for budding filmmakers–filmed with a DV camera, edited in iMovie, music created with Garageband.
Have a look…